Flying High
by Bodmin
Summary: What if Louisa and Martin didn't have the row over the Christening in S5E6? What if Louisa would have gone to London with Martin? We meet Martin almost three years after moving out of Portwenn.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I hate flying. I've always hated it. Being stuck in this tiny seat for hours, hampering the blood flow and risking thrombosis. I try to walk up and down the aisle regularly, but it's not easy during a flight. The last thing that is bothering me are the angry shouts from my fellow passengers.

I hate long flights and I wouldn't have made this one, but Imperial was really eager for me to attend this conference, and to be honest, the program sounds interesting.

This time I have even more reason to hate this trip. It is the first time that Louisa and I will be apart since the birth of our son.

Sometimes it is still difficult for me to believe that we are really together, that we are a couple. At first, I tried to persuade her to marry me. I thought it would be the right, the proper thing to do, especially given that James has the last name of only one of his parents. Louisa made it clear that she had no intention of repeating last time's disaster of our attempt at getting married and warned me to let it rest.

I did. I can't say that I am happy about it, but over the years, the urgency of the wish to make our relationship 'official' has worn off. Maybe being together for almost three years now means more than a marriage certificate.

Three years, and not one night apart. This will be the first. I'm dreading the thought. I'm not sure if I will be able to sleep. I will miss her.

She certainly has changed my sleeping pattern. Right at the beginning, she ditched my pyjama tops. She confessed to me one night that she found the 'baby blue' pyjamas _offensive_. I never thought of garments as possibly offending, but that's what she said. She pushed me to replace the tops with a T-shirt. That was the start. Next the top was to go completely, and since one stifling hot summer night, in London, she got me used to sleeping in my boxers only.

I've always slept preferably on my back, and I still do, but now I do have the benefit of Louisa's head resting on my chest. I love her hair floating over my chest while I can feel her breath on my skin. This was the only reason why I gave in in ditching my top.

For tonight I have my old pyjamas with me. Without Louisa, it doesn't feel right to go to bed in my underwear. With Louisa, everything feels right.

This is not the first conference I have had to attend since being back as top consultant. The hospital expects me to be present at the most important venues. The first year, I was expected to go to Shanghai. The flight was booked and I was already brooding about the imminent separation from my son and Louisa. Then Louisa passed a bug down to me which had caused devastating effects in her school for weeks. I was truly put out of business with influenza which made me bed-bound for weeks. My deputy had to step in.

The thought of the last big conference in Sydney last year brings back pleasant memories. Fortunately, it took place between terms, so I was able to take Louisa and James with me. The conference went on for four days, but we added a few days to add it up to a two week stay in total, spending our holidays there. Louisa and James had loved it!

During the conference, I was only able to join my family in the evenings. Of course I had the added benefit of having Louisa as my bed-companion. My bubbly family told me excitedly how they had spent the days and what they were planning to do when our holidays truly began.

It seemed during the four days when I still had to work that Louisa and James had toured practically the whole city, including a harbour tour. My little son insisted that I simply had to see the Sydney Aquarium, as he had been impressed. Honestly, I always thought watching paint dry was almost as exciting as watching some fish swimming in a tank, but seeing the enthusiasm of little James made me enjoy the day.

I was also dragged onto a Glass Bottom Boat and was able to see Louisa and James marvel at the coral reefs. Louisa even took a stab at snorkelling. She tried to persuade me to try it, too, but there are limits. I preferred to take James, who was too young for that anyhow, to visit the Science Museum.

I suppose we took the full program, delving deep into colonial history, visiting the heritage fleet, which had been one of James' favourites, the observatory, which I quite enjoyed, and even a Chinese Garden, which Louisa marvelled about although it is still beyond me why I should go to Australia to see a Chinese Garden.

Thinking back, it was the most perfect holiday. I was lucky as some of the other attendees had a similar plan, so even after the conference there was a handful of top consultants from all over the world left at the hotel. In the evenings, after a day full of activities with Louisa and James, when Louisa insisted we had to socialise with other guests of the hotel, I had at least the opportunity to choose those stranded due to the conference. Louisa had some nice talks with the partners they all brought along, while I could talk to my peers, trying to find out how they organised their departments, which new developments they had tried and maybe get some ideas on how to improve my own department.

At the end of the first week, the left-overs from the conference were thinning out, but then we journeyed on to the outback. Louisa insisted if we were in this part of the world, she simply had to see Ayers Rock. However, Louisa's suggestion to take a camel tour was absolutely out of the question. I still don't know for certain if she was just having me on in suggesting anything like it.

James had been over the moon when he saw his first kangaroo. It seemed that for Louisa and James, this excursion seemed to be the highlight of our stay there, while I though it was too dirty, too uncivilised and that there were far too many dangerous species around. What kind of living is it anyway if you have to be aware where to step and where to sit as you can run into some poisonous snake, scorpion or unpleasantly huge spiders all the time? Louisa thought it was marvellous. James thought it was exciting. I thought it was utterly disgusting.

The heat didn't help either. Although it was during the Easter holidays that we went there, so it was Autumn on this other side of the world, many days were unbearably hot. When I mentioned something about it to Louisa, she just told me to get out of that suit and into some 'proper' clothes, then I should be fine.

It seems to be an obsession with her to get me into anything but my usual clothes, the suits where I feel comfortable in.

To be honest, comfortable was not the way I would have described my state in the middle of the Australian continent, as sweat was running down my spine. At least, I wasn't over-exposed to the UV-rays which were a constant concern to me seeing Louisa and James running around in shorts and sleeveless tops all the time. Louisa was teasing me as I stopped them every other hour to apply a good deal of sun lotion to their bare skins.

Despite all my efforts to keep them protected as well as possible, James as well as Louisa were tanned like some Mediterranean natives on our flight home.

I have to admit that I found Louisa extremely sexy as my Latin lover.

Louisa was raving about it for months. She had found some of our tours so romantic. Even I couldn't help but being touched by the sunrise over Ayers Rock, even if I could have done without the bushman's breakfast.

That was not the only compromise I had to make on my eating habits, as Louisa insisted on booking a dinner '_under the canopy of the desert night'_, as the brochure put it. The desert sky was alright, but it was way past my dining hour, the food was not entirely what my stomach is used to and the babbling of the _storyteller_ got on my nerves. However, Louisa thought it was romantic, and proved it to me afterwards.

So, all in all, we had a good time together.

This time the timing of the conference is anything but ideal. It is close to the end of term, close enough to curse them for not waiting for just three weeks longer. As it is a very busy time for Louisa, there is no chance that she could have taken time off work, not even the four days for the conference, and definitely no time for an added holiday.

So I will have to do without her and James for a few days.

I will miss James' bedtime routine. Whenever I can, I try to be home when he is put to bed to read to him. I never would have believed it, but when I read those absolutely stupid stories to him and see him hanging on every word, the stress of the day is forgotten. I feel peaceful and calm in those quiet moments when the world is reduced to James in his bed and Louisa sitting by my side. Sometimes she slides her hand into mine, holding it tenderly, sometimes her hand is on my thigh. I feel at home and I'm happy that James doesn't share my childhood experiences.

I think, in general, he has quite a happy childhood and I'm eternally grateful to Louisa that she has given me that. I'm glad that she got pregnant. I'm glad that the thought of abortion never crossed her mind, even when her outlook was a bit bleak at that time. I'm glad that she came back to Portwenn. I'm even glad for those stupid accidents on those ghastly moors because it stopped me from rushing to London against my better judgement. Most of all, I'm glad that she gave me another chance after James' birth and agreed to join me in London.

I have it all now.

I am at the top of my profession again, the 'big chief', and I am highly regarded in my job. I have had some illustrious patients over the last couple of years, but their arteries were just in the same devastating condition as those of any Tom, Dick or Harry. At least the rector is quite happy about those patients as it brings reputation as well as money.

I have the prospect to work on a new research program, testing new operating procedures for stroke patients with blood clots in their brain which are too big to be dissolved by drugs. It will be a joined research program with Plymouth University. We have a strategy meeting in a fortnight and I'm looking forward to this challenge.

I have a gorgeous, healthy son which gives me so much love and trust that my heart bursts whenever I can spend some time with him. It is something I never planned on having, so I enjoy the miraculous gift even more.

I have Louisa. For three years now we've lived together, loved together, spent time together. She is a benefit in more than one way. First and foremost, I love her, still love her, and can't imagine that I will ever stop loving her. She made me do things I never would have done on my own.

She supports me whenever doubts creep in. She comforts me when something at the hospital isn't going to plan. Even I lose patients from time to time. It is liberating to be with her. It makes my life richer. As a benefit I didn't expect, she also helps me in my job. I'm convinced that I might not have gotten some of the sponsorships for my college nor some donations for research projects if it hadn't been for Louisa. Negotiations for new projects always also include social events. I always underestimated the importance of these business lunches. I was always crap at it. Now, I can take Louisa with me, as most take their partners if they have time and are at hand.

I leave the social aspects to her and I can see that she twists everyone around her little finger in no time. Somehow she manages to charm the male parties without making the respective female partners jealous. She's a marvel. I've never landed so many contracts with sponsors ever before and I know that the main merit is with Louisa.

Good thing is that she really enjoys these evenings. She looks forward to every one of them so I don't have to feel guilty that I might use her. After one evening, last year, she smiled at me on our way home. I was puzzled. She was especially attentive to me the whole night, until I finally asked how I deserved this.

'_You're such a darling. You don't even realise.'_ Indeed, I didn't. '_The room was packed with gorgeous women tonight, many of them considerably younger and, well, more attractive, I suppose, but you never looked at one of them even once. You only had eyes for me. I love you.'_ Louisa had said and tiptoed to kiss me.

However, Louisa was wrong. I noticed all the women quite clearly that evening and couldn't help to feel incredibly proud to have the most attractive and intelligent partner, which by the way had the finest character of them all. Actually, I do notice other women more than I had before, just to find out that there is no better catch for me in any way.

So I should call myself lucky and count my blessings.

But something doesn't feel right.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

What I forgot to mention last time:

1) Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures.

2) The Australian holiday in chapter 1 was a reference to my proof reader, who helped me a lot with her inside knowledge!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 2

I hear the announcement that we are on the approach for landing at LaGuardia in New York. I must have managed to doze off after all. I feel completely stiff and my neck hurts. Sleeping in a plane is never a good idea, but can hardly be avoided on an eight-hour-flight.

My throat is dry. Not a good thing on a flight. I should have taken care to drink enough fluids, but how can you do it when you doze off.

I try to wave at the steward to order something to drink, but it's too late. The landing has already begun. I glance at my watch. The flight is on schedule and I will have two hours at the airport, before the next plane brings me to Ithaca Regional airport and from there to Cornell University.

My watch still reads Greenwich Mean Time. In London it's past one o'clock in the afternoon and Louisa will be at school. Here it is just past eight a.m. and a whole day lies ahead of me.

Louisa asked me to send her a message when I had landed safely, but I will wait until I reach Ithaca. It doesn't make sense to disturb her because I've finished one leg of my journey, especially as her mobile should be switched to mute as she is in front of her class.

James will be at the nursery. Does he understand why his Daddy won't be there for his bedtime routine? We tried to explain to him why I have to be away for a few days but that I will definitely be back soon, but a few days are a long time when you're not even three.

I miss London and my family even before the plane lands safely. My luggage will be transferred to the next plane, so all I have to do is kill time.

I am hoping that some other attendees of the conference will be stranded waiting for the connection too, and that I might have some expert talk to make it easier to wait.

I stride along LaGuardia towards the gate where I have to check in. There's the usual mingle-mangle of fast-food chains, news agents, book shops and chemist shops as in any other airport in any town in the world. If it comes to airports, you can't really tell if you are in London, New York or Timbuktu. I don't even bother to have a look as I know I will just see rubbish.

I prefer to get to my gate quickly and then either find some other surgeon to talk to or read some article.

I've almost reached my gate when I hear someone yell "ELLINGHAM?"

I hope with all my heart that I am mistaken, but I think I recognise this voice. I try to ignore it and speed towards the check-in. I hear some clatter of high-heels and I'm afraid I won't make it. Just as I thought I'd have a chance, an Indian family – well, clan is more like it – rushes out of one shop blocking my way. I try to edge my way through them, but the high-heels are getting closer.

"Ellingham? What are you doing here?"

I was not mistaken and the smirking face, topped by short red hair, confronts me.

"Edith?" I spat out.

"I never thought you were one for holidays."

"Conference." I clarify as shortly as I can. Our last encounter hadn't been exactly pleasant and I can't imagine why she had felt the need to address me. I mean, I couldn't have been any clearer about not wanting to have anything to do with her.

"I didn't know there's a small town GP convention in New York."

"Very funny." I snarl.

"Are you still hiding in that biscuit tin village – what was the name? Portwat?"

"Portwenn." I correct.

"I knew it sounded like something with a big question mark. I have to say I was quite disappointed when you didn't show up in London as planned, covering your ridiculous phobia with some family matters. Fortunately I got a great opportunity to work here in the USA immediately after my return to London. So you weren't missed too badly."

Obviously Edith fails to keep herself informed, otherwise she would have spotted the one or other article of mine in one of the usual journals.

"I have to go." I simply state.

"Wait Ellingham. You're not by any chance attending the conference in California? Because that's where I'm going. We could travel together."

I am eternally grateful that Edith is not on her way to the same conference as I am. I have seen the announcement of the venue she's referring to and it sounded like a load of claptrap to me, mainly a platform for ambitious doctors trying to sell themselves to industry.

"Vascular Surgery Conferences, Cornell." I inform her.

"Ellingham? I'm impressed. Since when does Portwenn have a hospital of that calibre?"

"Imperial, London." I correct her again. I don't want to talk to her more than absolutely necessary, but I also don't want her to have those funny ideas in her head.

"So you got sick and tired of these backwaters after all. Good for you! I suppose playing family was a nice game for a short time, but not really fulfilling. I know how it is, I tried marriage and was pretty sick of it soon enough. Must have been a blow for little Miss Spikey. What was her name? Louella?"

I feel my anger rising. If I'd have ever forgotten why I didn't stay with Edith, she certainly proves it to me now. She is disgusting in her patronising manner. I did have respect for her professionally once, but then I realised that she isn't interested in her job. She's interested in her career.

Louisa often thinks that I'm not interested enough in my patients because I do not care about their names, families and private lives. At least I do care about their well-being, because that is my duty. Edith is just interested in what strings she has to pull to get a better job.

"Louisa is fine." I simply say.

"So you're still in contact? Still friends?"

_Friends. Lovers. Companions. Parents. Confidants._

"We're partners."

"Really? Weekends and holidays? Must be idyllic."

"Louisa did have my child, remember."

"Stop being so chivalrous. Nowadays things like that are settled with a hefty cheque."

"I was afraid it would be, but gladly Louisa and I could sort it out."

Edith looks genuinely puzzled. "You mean, you're in London? Both of you."

"Three. Louisa, our son and I."

"I underestimated her. She is smarter than I thought. She got herself settled nicely."

"I beg your pardon!"

Edith stares at me, visibly upset. "Really, Ellingham. I always thought you were…"

"You have no idea who I am, what I want. You have no idea of anything. So stop thinking. Especially about me. I've got to check in."

I don't wait for an answer and turn on my heels. I storm towards the gate as I will be safe from Edith's claws as soon as I pass through.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I'm waiting for the transfer flight to Ithaca. I have the newest issue of the British Medical Journal and it must seem that I am reading. I am not. I can't concentrate.

I have to admit that the encounter with Edith has upset me.

I don't understand what I ever saw in her. At medical school I had fallen for her completely, I was even anxious to marry her. I still don't know which turn of fate saved me exactly, but I'm eternally grateful for whatever circumstances helped in my escape.

Isn't it strange that the same woman that set your heart racing once can make your blood boil when you meet her several years later?

Back then, I hadn't noticed her acid tongue, not negatively anyway. Of course, we often sneered about the "common" student, who hadn't the intellectual capacity to deserve a place at the same university as us. Thinking back, I probably had been just as bad as she was.

Maybe I just notice it now because her nasty remarks were aimed at a target close to my heart. I remember the first encounter between Edith and Louisa in my kitchen in Portwenn. Well, not exactly _in_ my kitchen, as Louisa was standing in front of the door while Edith was comfortably sitting at my table. Strange how things have changed. Edith couldn't be more _out_ of my life as she is right now, and Louisa has opened every door for me and let fresh air breathe in.

I take my smart phone out and start to dial. I think of Louisa constantly and if I want to have a chance to concentrate on the article, maybe I should send her a message so that I can get this task out of my head.

"Safely landed in NY. Waiting for connecting flight." I hesitate for a moment. I don't know if I should add this piece of information, but finally I start writing. "You'll never guess who I ran into. Love, Martin. P.S.: I miss you."

I hesitate before I press the "send" button. I look at the postscript. I know Louisa will most probably be at school when she receives the massage and I don't know who will read it. Louisa can be so careless about whom she shares information with.

I click on the text to edit it. The last three words are quickly deleted. She should know that I miss her anyhow.

I quickly send the message before I think again.

I think of Louisa in her school. She didn't have any trouble finding a teaching job when we moved to London, much to my disappointment. I tried to convince her that she might stay at home to bring up James for a bit. She didn't want to have any of it. We had a huge row. So I hoped, with the difficult unemployment rate at that time, she might have been forced to stay at home out of sheer necessity. I was a bit disappointed when she did find a job immediately. The next row followed, which I lost again.

So James is the next generation of Ellinghams growing up in London, cared for by a nanny. Louisa wanted to give him into some day-care centre, but that was taking it one step too far. I made inquiries about qualified nannies that were competent enough to look after our precious boy. Louisa was protesting about me being snobby and old-fashioned and unreasonable in not letting James have enough contact with boys his age.

In my memory, it was the company of boys my age that made school almost unbearable, and the experiences with the "Dares Club" in Louisa's old school in Portwenn had confirmed that this behaviour is far from being extinct and I will try everything to protect James from that as well as I can.

There is another mine field that we are battling over. I still haven't completely surrendered in my battle to get James registered for one of the most prestigious public schools. I mean, with Louisa and me working both full time, the only time we can spend with James is on weekends and if we're lucky an hour at most before his bedtime during the week. If we chose the school Ruth has recommended, there is no reason why he couldn't come home on Fridays. Kent is just around the corner, after all. So I don't see the difference in him spending the day with his nanny now or in boarding school in a couple of years. However, this is a very sensitive subject for Louisa. I can't help my impression that she feels inferior because she went to a comprehensive school.

Right now, we share our breakfast every morning and after that, a young woman comes to look after James while we are at work. She's from Spain, but speaks English fluently. She also speaks French very well, and she is encouraged to teach James these languages too, in a playful way. The more he gets familiar with foreign languages while his brain is still young, the easier it'll be for him to use these languages later in life.

Before moving to London, I was worried that my job wouldn't leave me enough time to spend with my son, but it turned out that Louisa is far worse than me.

Not being head teacher wasn't satisfying for her, so she found herself projects '_to make a difference_'. I never understood why it should be important to make a difference to total strangers. It usually means that you're doing the work for them.

Soon after Louisa had settled in her new job, she spent almost every evening at home at our kitchen table to work on her '_project_'.

About three years later, the school uses her initiative for marketing reasons. She has quite successfully installed a system to support pupils from underprivileged families. Louisa really gives her heart and soul to find opportunities to help those children whose parents often couldn't care less in finding ways to make the best of their talents. She makes sure that the school library is well equipped. She makes sure that there is room for pupils to study when they don't have a quiet place at home to study undisturbed. She has ensured extra projects like a theatre group, an art class, music classes, technical classes, a computer club, DIY classes and even a school garden – which is a stupid idea in the middle of London in my opinion. She has encouraged other teachers to spend part of their free time, too, to ensure that there are experts to guide children in the respective fields and to make it possible for her pupils to find out what they are good at.

It has the added benefit for the parents that they even have to care less about their children, as they spend most of their spare time in the care of the school.

It has the huge disadvantage for our son that he sees his mother even less.

Sometimes I don't understand Louisa. She seems to burn the candle at both ends.

At the beginning of this year, she even added a new project to her already enormous workload. I confronted her, telling her that she is spreading herself too thin and that she owes it to our son not to overdo it.

"What has James got to do with this? This will be in the evenings mostly. He's in bed at that time anyhow."

James is. I'm not.

Besides, I'm really not happy with her doing anything like it.

It began with one of her underprivileged special projects telling Louisa about his elder sister. She was fourteen, completely useless, had dropped out of school and was hanging around. Her mother was devastated and the shock made her incompetent to look after her other two children. In my opinion such incompetent parents should be forbidden to procreate. For the benefit of society as well as the benefit of their children.

Louisa started some investigation about homeless minors in London. With the help of one male colleague, also an acute do-gooder, she roamed the streets in search of those kids living rough.

In co-operation with one parish and the social services, she has organised a place where they could sleep, a soup kitchen, collecting second hand clothes and which is especially important for her, offering free education. She was shocked to find out how many of them were basically illiterate, although having gone to normal schools before.

I tried hard to talk her out of this project. I'm worried about her. She doesn't see it that way. For her, I'm again snobby, unreasonable and uncaring. I have to admit that I really don't see why it should be any of our business if they choose to lead that kind of life. We are not responsible for the whole of mankind.

I tried to reason with her that this other project of hers takes up quite a good deal of her time already, but she argued that this was well established by now and hardly needed much time anymore. She needed a new challenge.

When I realised that there was nothing I could do, I did have a talk with the chairmen of the hospital. I could persuade them that it would be good marketing to install a small unit to offer a free health check for those tramps. It's not that I do care about them, but at least I can ensure that Louisa isn't exposed to too many germs. The better the health of these down-and-outs is, the better are the chances that I can keep Louisa from any real danger.

I also insisted on her getting the necessary vaccinations and that she gets a regular health check herself. She just gave in with her weary: "Yes, Doctor."

By now, it happens quite often that I just catch her when she is already on her way out or I just find a note telling me not to wait.

Somehow I can't help to think that she is running. Driven.

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My bleak thoughts are interrupted by a middle-aged man with an over-averaged BMI, balding and thick spectacles.

"Excuse me, but are you Mr. Ellingham, Imperial?"

He speaks with a thick German accent. I really can't place this face.

I look up.

"Charité, Berlin. The convention earlier this year in London?" He clarifies.

Now I remember him. I offer him a seat. He is also on his way to Cornell University. We start talking about the program and our expectations and our experience on the fields we are to discuss later.

My mind is kept off private things. Soon we can board the plane to Ithaca. We share a cab to the university. Then the usual registration procedure, the dull introduction and then we are in the middle of the program. Most of the presentations offer not much insight, but there are a few bits and pieces that might be of value.

Today, I simply have to listen and be present. My presentation will be tomorrow afternoon.

It's half past six local time before I'm finally in my hotel room. The conference has taken a bit longer than planned and afterwards an American surgeon talked my ear off. I should have phoned Louisa an hour ago.

I'm reluctant to call her. It's in the middle of the night in London. I hate the time difference. It also means that I won't be able to talk to James before I'm back in London. Either it's too early, or too late, or I'm in that bloody convention.

I speed-dial Louisa's number. I'm determined to let it ring three times and if she hadn't answered till then, I will let it rest.

The phone hardly rings when I hear Louisa's sleepy voice. "Hello?"

"Louisa? It's me. Martin."

"Sure. How was the flight?"

"Bearable."

"No delays?"

"No, everything was on time."

"That's rare. You're lucky. How was the convention?"

"Boring. First days usually are. I hope tomorrow will be better."

"At least there's one highlight then."

"Which one should that be?"

"Remember, I had a glance at the program, and an exceptionally brilliant surgeon will have his presentation tomorrow."

I'm confused. Did I miss anything?

"Who? What?" I stammer.

"I read that the brilliant Martin Ellingham will talk tomorrow afternoon."

"Ah…eh…but that's of no interest to me. I mean, I know what I'm talking about."

"You always do."

"It's not worth a trip half around the world, you know."

"James misses you. I had difficulties in putting him to bed."

"Didn't you have to be at the soup kitchen or somewhere?" Mondays usually are busy nights.

"Thomas took my shift. I wanted to be with James now that you can't be."

Thomas, that sleek shallow I-love-the-whole-world-kind-of-person, RE teacher of all things.

"Right. Sensible."

"James was quite upset. Missed you terribly."

I pause for a moment. "Just James?" I ask.

Louisa laughs. "No, of course he's not the only one in this Kensington flat who would rather have you here. However, I hope I'm just a tad better in dealing with it. At least, it will be just for a week."

I pause again, and then I say what I didn't dare to write. "I miss you."

"That's nice. And on your first day already."

"I already missed you when I was at the airport."

"That's sweet of you. Of course I miss you, too."

"How was your day?"

"Busy. The last weeks of term are always the worst. Sheer madness."

"Don't overdo it."

"Yes, Doctor."

I know that her response is a clear warning to let it rest. She still doesn't like me to care for her.

"What was that about running into someone?" She changes the subject.

"Oh…eh…" I remember the game she likes to play with me and this is the time to turn the tables on her. "Have a guess."

"Oh, well. I didn't see that coming. Let's think about it. Can't be one from Imperial or you would have known. One of your friends or mine?"

Friend? I wouldn't say. "Neither."

"A celebrity?"

"And you really think I would have recognised one if I saw one?"

"If it's the Nobel prize winner for medicine?"

"No such luck."

"So, one of us has to know him, or you couldn't have run into him."

"We both know _her_."

"Oh, a woman, but no friend. Caroline?"

"Who?"

"Caroline Bosman – Portwenn Radio?"

"Oh, I haven't thought of her for ages! Goodness, no!"

"I heard she married an American guy. Well. That medical assistant of yours you fired last year?"

"Wrong again."

"I give up."

"Come on!"

"No, really. It's just before midnight."

"Sorry," I mumble. "Edith."

"WHAT? I mean – _that_ Edith? Your ex."

"Come on. Don't dwell on that. That's older than the dodo."

"I didn't know you were such a fossil."

"Really!"

"It's OK. What was _she _doing there?"

I breathe in, relieved that there seems to be no hard feelings that I have mentioned her.

"She was on her way to a conference."

"Oh no! She's there, too?"

"No…California! Remember that clap-trap I told you about?"

"Phew! That's a relief. I just thought you two could make a cosy week of it."

"REALLY!" I shout. I'm truly hurt.

"Just kidding."

"That's not funny."

"Suppose it isn't. Nothing about her ever was."

I pause. I don't know what to say.

"So what's she doing nowadays?"

"I didn't talk to her long enough to find that out. I wasn't particularly interested either. She talked something about getting a job in the USA before I came to London. I haven't got a clue if she's still got it. It's difficult to keep up with her jobs."

"So you didn't sit down for a nice cup of coffee for old times sake?"

"Heaven no! I just couldn't avoid her. That's all."

"Yeah, she _is_ a pain in the you-know-what. I hope otherwise your day was fine?"

"OK."

No matter for how long we've been together now, I still find talking on the phone awkward. There's a long pause as none of us can think of anything to say.

"Well…" we then start at the same time, then we both fall silent. Louisa giggles.

"You first."

"Nothing really."

"So?"

"Uhm…"

"You must be tired, after that awfully long journey."

"Not really. This ghastly jet lag. I don't know if it's day or night."

"Well, it's definitely night here."

"Oh, sorry…I'm keeping you awake. Shall I ring off?"

"No, that's fine. I like to hear your voice."

"Uhum."

"Shame that you're so far away."

"I really couldn't help it. I had to go."

"Sure, and it's just for a few days…"

"…and nights."

"MARTIN! Really, you are a bit of a dark horse."

"No." I stammer and I blush. That is not at all what I mean. "It's just we hardly see each other during the day anyhow anymore, except for the weekends."

"Oh, really?"

"You haven't noticed?"

Louisa is quiet. I don't know what to make of this. After a moment I speak lowly, not to wake her up if she's fallen asleep. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, yes I am, Martin."

"I…I didn't want to…complain. Don't get me wrong."

"No. Maybe you're right. We'll talk about it when you're back."

"Yes." I hear her yawn. "Louisa, you're tired. We talk tomorrow."

"No, stay a bit."

"Sleep well."

"Maybe you're right. Have nice dreams."

The line is dead and I'm alone again in this horrid hotel room.

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I lie awake. I can't sleep. Louisa is always teasing me how much I need my routine. I don't like it to be disturbed in any way. Right now, nothing is how it should be.

My thoughts wander all around the world to our little flat. I wonder if James has come over to sleep in our bed. Sometimes, when he's restless or not well, or had nightmares, he sneaks into our bed. I always pretend to be angry, because I still think he should have learned to stay in his own bed by now, but I'm just too willing to let Louisa persuade me to let him sleep with us '_just this once'_.

Secretly I hope we'll have many of these conversations to come. I know that James will stop sleeping over eventually, but it will be too soon for my liking. It feels like family.

I really should count my blessings. When I first started at Imperial, Robert was reluctant to tell me the social events where I had to be present, to mingle and do some 'net-working'. It is regarded as very important nowadays, although I can't see why.

Robert knows me and how awkward I always was on these occasions, and I still am. However, now I have the advantage that I don't have to come alone. As soon as Louisa takes over the conversation, people start to forget about me and I can quietly stand next to her and watch.

I still remember the incredulous looks of people when I first introduced Louisa. I could practically see what they've been thinking and I have to admit, I still don't have the answer to the question that is obviously on everyone's mind: "How on earth could a bore like that win a woman like her!"

It's not important _how_ it happened, for me it's just important that it _did_ happen.

Louisa seems blissfully unaware of this, or maybe she just ignores them. She is so incredibly secure in any social setting.

I often get positive feedback after such occasions. People seem to find it necessary to tell _me_ that I've got a beautiful, very nice partner. As if I didn't know.

Even Robert congratulated me and told me that she is the extra boost my career needed. That she will be able to open those last doors that were always closed to me because of my social awkwardness.

I am grateful to her. Grateful that she's still with me, although I will never understand why.

I turn to my side and tell myself that I do have to sleep. It's already midnight, past my bedtime. In England it's already five a.m. and Louisa has to get up in a bit more than an hour.

I try to close my eyes and get some sleep, but whenever I close my eyes, I see Louisa.

The strange thing, however, is that I never see her in London. I realise that all the pictures my brain comes up with are still from Portwenn. Maybe it would have been different if she'd had the time to bring me to the airport, but she had to be at a meeting. So I can't remember her kissing me goodbye at the gates, I can't remember her hugging me before I take my suitcase up with a sigh.

All I could remember is us having breakfast and then her leaving the flat, wishing me a safe journey, saying: "I'd love to bring you to Heathrow, but I've got a full day. You can manage without me, can't you?"

But I do not remember that.

I remember her ponytail swinging as the sea breeze plays with it. I remember her at the harbour, in broad sunshine, her eyes reflecting the sun. I see her in front of the pub, when she told me that there were 20 things about me that were crap.

All images I have in my head are from Portwenn.

I roll onto my back again and stare at the ceiling. I haven't thought of Portwenn since we moved away. Sighing relieved that this purgatory was finally behind me and that I could start my life again with an interesting job, a wonderful woman at my side and my beloved son in a city where I feel more at home.

What else would I need to be happy? I started my job enthusiastically. I didn't have any problems with my haemophobia. Maybe settling down was all I needed to get a grip on my anxiety disorder.

I even took advantage of my head position and organised the work so that it was least likely for me to work over hours. I really try to be at home on time, as far as possible. Being a consultant, I don't have to deal with emergency house calls anymore, so no interrupted spare time ever again. I am particularly keen to be home for James' bedtime routine. I simply love it and it's tough for me that I have to skip it this week.

I often take some work home with me, but as Louisa is also working in the evenings this is no problem.

Living with Louisa was difficult at first, but the more she got engrossed in her own work and her various projects, the less rows we had. At first I really valued that. Over time though, I have to confess that she is a bit too much involved for my taste.

I realise that we hardly spend much time together anymore. Except, of course, during the weekends. I feel comfortable around her, yes, but I miss some things.

I hadn't realised before. Maybe the disruption of my routine gives me time to think about my goals, to refocus, to analyse our relationship. Maybe I needed the distance to see more clearly.

Now I let the pictures in my head flow freely. Maybe that will give me a clue what has gone wrong and where.

The first thing I notice is not really a revelation. Almost all of the images I have in my head are with Louisa wearing her ponytail. I know it's silly, but I've always loved it. It is as superficial as it gets, but the way it swung just emphasised her wonderful way of moving. She doesn't wear her hair in a ponytail anymore. Not since she's been in London.

I commented about it, shyly, after we were in London for a couple of weeks that she hadn't pulled her hair back once.

"Don't be silly! What would people think of me? That I'm hopelessly provincial? That's not sophisticated enough."

"I always liked it." I protested meekly.

"Well, it's OK for Cornwall, but here in London people would think I'm in the wrong place, that I should go back to the backwaters."

She must have noticed my disappointment and continued in a seductive tone: "If you're so keen about it, well, I can wear it for you. When we make ourselves _comfortable?_ How about that? Would that turn you on?"

I was shocked. No, that was by no means what I meant. I gulped and then, when I had found the strength again to answer, I told her that I found that offer outrageous. It's not that I have a bloody fetish that she has to serve to stimulate me. It just wouldn't feel right if she's putting on a show for me. If it isn't real, then I'm not interested. I simply couldn't bear the thought she might be masquerading for me. It would have made me wonder how much of her whole behaviour would be real, and how much was a show she had put on.

Louisa was speechless, and let the subject rest. However, she never wore her ponytail either.

Sometimes, when we're going out she spends hours on some elaborate hairdos. I hate them. Of what use is a style when you're not even allowed to stroke her hair tenderly because you might _ruin_ it? I don't want a showpiece, I want a real woman. Louisa, however, seems to think that she has to compete with all the rest of femininity in London, topping them in every way, and that she needs to try to look like someone else in doing so. Why can't she see that there is not one woman in London that could be any real competition if she is just her natural self?

She also usually wears more make-up than she did in Portwenn. I tried to make her understand that it is really bad for your skin, but she put that objection aside. The worst for me, however, is the perfume. I hate perfume. I never could understand why people nowadays seem to think they can't smell like normal human beings anymore. I mean, if you follow a normal hygiene routine, you hardly smell anyhow.

Perfume had made sense in times when the unwashed upper-class really reeked to high heaven. They shouldn't have used perfume then either, but water and soap. A well-groomed woman like Louisa doesn't need to cover her natural smell with some artificial nonsense. I like her best when she comes fresh from the shower, her hair simply falling over her shoulders, her face showing her natural beauty and the clean smell of hers that I like so much.

Maybe that's why my brain produces images of Louisa in Portwenn – the clean sea air, her healthy complexion, her natural beauty, her ponytail swinging, the twinkling in her eyes, her gorgeous smile.

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I must have fallen asleep with that image in my head. I had weird dreams. Nice, but weird. Again, I hadn't left Portwenn in those dreams. I don't know what it is. I was so glad to leave it behind and never thought of it for a moment, and suddenly, when I'm more than three thousand miles away, I can't get this bloody village out of my head.

There is no time for me to ponder on that now. I have to get ready for the first agenda item. I take a shower and let the cool water run over my face, washing away all those silly thoughts I'd had during the night.

Before I go down for breakfast I send Louisa a message, wishing her a nice day, only too aware that she has already spent half of hers.

I easily made it through the morning. There had been quite an interesting presentation there, but I think my questions just shook the whole conclusion up a bit. Sometimes it is beyond me why people can't see what's in front of their noses. However, the presenter was honest enough to value my contribution and throughout the coffee break and even later at lunch we kept in discussion on what implications still could be drawn from his results.

Now the lunch break is over and I have to listen to the outpourings of this twit. Who ever accepted his abstract? Or is he related to some of the organisers?

I try to keep my concentration up, after all, I have to present my research results after this idiot, but it is difficult to concentrate. Without noticing it, I start doodling while I internally curse this absolute waste of time.

"Truro…that sounds funny." I hear a voice with strong Texan accent. Obviously I'm not the only one underchallenged by this presentation.

"What?" I notice that I had written on my sheet _Portwenn_, _Truro_, _Plymouth_ and _London_, vaguely as you would find them on the map. I am puzzled, as I hadn't done it deliberately. Then I remember the prying eyes belonging to the fellow next to me. "Mind your own business!" I snarl.

"It's alright. No need to bite my head off. You're from England?"

"What has _that_ got to do with anything?"

"Nothing, just that I heard of Plymouth and London. Are you working there?"

"None of your business!"

"Alright, alright." He holds his hands up defensively. "Won't say another word."

Fortunately, the moron comes to the end of his presentation. His outpourings are not worth any comment of mine, so I gather my USB with my presentation and some notes I made and walk towards the podium.

My presentation goes swimmingly. There are a few questions afterwards, some of them are even intelligent, but I can answer them without any problems. I think I presented Imperial adequately. Mine was the last presentation for today. Only two days to go.

When I return to my place, well after most attendees have left the auditorium, I stare at the sheet.

_Portwenn_, _Truro_, _Plymouth,_ _London_.

Three names are reasonably close together, while one is on the other side of the page. Portwenn and Truro are linked by a thick black line.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When I call Louisa this evening, I do tell her about the boring presenter. I do tell her about the interesting discussion following this morning's presentation. I do tell her about my presentation and how it was received.

I do not tell her about my doodling.

I know she doesn't like to talk about Portwenn. Cornwall is tolerated, but the subject of Portwenn is better to be avoided.

I am a bit astonished about this, as I always thought she would want to visit there often. It turned out that she is worse than me avoiding everything about the village where we met. We've never set foot in it again.

Just last week Aunt Ruth called me. She is still living at Joan's farm and still hasn't written a single page of the book she is about to write.

She keeps me informed about what's going on in Portwenn, although I'm not in the slightest bit interested. However, she did tell me some news that I thought Louisa would find interesting.

After we put James to bed, I tried to tell Louisa. I tried to talk to her about Portwenn.

"You know what Ruth just told me?"

"No, what?"

"Well, it's…you remember…" I was cut short then.

"It's not about the village?"

"Uhm, yes, actually."

"When will you ever understand that it is the past. Gone. Rest in peace. I don't want to hear any of it." She brusquely turned towards her desk and got some papers out.

"I really think you would be interested to hear…"

"SHUSH! I've got markings to do."

And I kept quiet.

That night Louisa was tense. When she joined me in bed, I could feel her body tension. I gently took her hand, taking it as an excuse to check her pulse and body temperature. She vigorously withdrew her hand, telling me to stop fussing.

"You don't look well tonight. Anything wrong?"

"Just tired."

"You shouldn't overdo it. You're…"

"STOP fussing."

Uncharacteristically she rolled over to her side, lying with her back towards me.

"There's more to it."

"_Yes,_ doctor." She sighs. "I just got a bit of a headache, that's all."

"If you need anything?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you. I took a paracetamol and should be fine in a moment."

I think about the quickly vanishing pack of tablets in our bathroom cabinet. "You shouldn't take too many of them. As an occasional painkiller they're fine, but taken on a regular basis…"

Louisa turns around to look at me. "Keep your advice, _doctor!_"

Strangely enough, whenever Louisa is really cross with me, she uses my academic title to address me. Mostly, I know what I did wrong after gathering my thoughts and analysing the situation. However, I still do not know what I did possibly wrong that night.

I filed it away as a consequence of the headaches.

Thinking back, there was another similar occasion the first winter we spent in London. The BBC showed some documentaries about "The Great British Countryside". Louisa likes to watch this stuff and broadcasts like that are reasonably informative, so that I can endure watching them, too. Louisa was curled up next to me on the leather sofa. The first episode was about Cornwall and Devon. I noticed how Louisa brushed some tears away secretly. When the credits were rolling I got up to switch the TV off and offered to make some tea. Uncommonly for her, Louisa said she'd prefer some white wine. Normally, she does not drink alcohol during the week. I didn't say anything, as one glass occasionally is not too much of a problem, but I got the feeling Louisa was upset.

When I sat down next to her, I tried to stroke her back to comfort her, but she turned away. Being convinced that her state of mind was directly linked to the program we've just watched, I clumsily offered that we could visit Ruth on her farm.

Louisa almost bit my head off. It was then that she made it clear that I was never to mention Portwenn again and that she had no desire to return there for visits. London was our home now. Full stop.

I couldn't agree more, but her avoidance of this subject has almost paranoid tendencies.

At first, she was seeking contact to Danny and Holly, as those were her friends based in London. I was not happy about either contact, especially not with Danny, but I accepted it as I had been the one dragging her out of her usual social circles into a new town and I accepted her nights out with her friends grudgingly.

Since Louisa is working almost all day in her school and on her projects, she meets only occasionally with friends, and then mostly with ones she had met in her projects. I don't think she had seen Danny or Holly at all this year.

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I'm such an idiot!"

I sit bolt upright in bed.

I woke up because everything suddenly made sense. Crystal clear. And I'm such an idiot, I couldn't see what's in front of my nose all along. How stupid!

Without switching on the light I finger my mobile and speed dial Louisa's number.

It rings a couple of times and I just realise how stupid this idea was. When I'm about to ring off, I hear Louisa's sleepy voice.

"Yeah?"

"Uhm…sorry…it's me. Martin."

"Martin?" Louisa's still seems to be more asleep than awake. "Do you have any idea what time it is in London?"

"Oh…uhm…sorry, bad idea. We can talk later."

"No, wait. Now that you've woken me up you can just as well tell me what's so important that you had to ring me at half past five."

"Shit."

"Don't tell me you didn't know. It must be in the middle of the night over there, too."

For the first time I look at the alarm clock and curse myself that I hadn't done that earlier. It's half past twelve.

"Ehm…yes, it is."

"Can't you sleep?"

"Oh, eh…I was asleep. I just woke up."

"And you're calling to tell me that, or is something serious the matter?"

"Maybe I really should call you later."

"No, it's OK. I couldn't sleep now without knowing what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, really."

"Great. Good to know. Is there anything else or can I go back to sleep?"

I decide that I have to ask her now or I would never do it. Now, that I see clearly – like in a dream.

"Are you free this weekend?"

"Why are you asking? When?"

"The whole weekend. It's important."

"I'll have to look at my diary. I think I kept it free, except for one gathering about the street kids where I really should be."

"Skip it."

"What?"

"_Please_, skip it."

"Wow. This really sounds important. Maybe Shirley can go, she mentioned she wanted to go anyway."

"Good."

"So what's wrong?"

"When I'm coming home on Friday, meet me at Paddington. Bring James and the luggage for the weekend."

"But I thought you wanted to go home."

"That's exactly what I have to find out. See you at the station."

I ring off before Louisa has time to answer.

I take a deep breath. Now the wheels are rolling. No holding back. I am a bit dizzy when I think about the possible consequences.

I'm taking a risk. I'm not sure if the outcome is what I really want, but somehow there seems to be no other way.

It can't go on like this.

I despised my parents for how they treated each other and how they treated me. I swore to myself that I'd never be like my father, that we'd never be like them.

In a way, Louisa and I are worse. At least my parents did what they did to have fun, to claim their own happiness.

What are we doing? We are working like mad, running in circles, neglecting each other and James – for what? We don't even have fun!

We are doing our duty. We are treating each other with respect and yes, there is a lot of love. I admit, that is something my parents didn't have.

However, our family life is arranged around our work. If something or someone gets in the way of the job, it has to step back.

Like the other week. I had lost a patient on the table. I know, as a doctor I should be prepared that this is a possibility and normally I can cope, but the tragic thing was that I really thought we'd made it when things turned worse. In the end it was a battle, for hours, and we lost.

When I came home I was devastated, exhausted and worn out. James was already asleep as the procedure made a timely return home impossible.

It was one of the rare occasions that I needed to talk. I really needed someone to pour my heart out to.

It was also one of the rare evenings that Louisa was home.

I'm never good in starting a conversation. I never was and I suppose I never will be, so maybe my attempts to start talking were a bit awkward. I'm sure Louisa didn't realise how important it was for me to get things off my chest.

She didn't really listen. She was engrossed in the papers lying all over the living room table. Somehow I kept talking, trying to get to the point, until Louisa looked up shortly.

"Martin, do you mind. I need that for a conference tomorrow. I'm running late. Can't we talk about it tomorrow?"

I sighed and did the only thing I could do.

I let it rest.

Louisa just shouted over to me as I left the room "There's some pie left in the fridge. Just needs heating up."

I did not go into the kitchen. I wasn't hungry.

I went onto the balcony and watched the city lights. I listened to the last planes doing their waiting loop over London.

Louisa never uses the balcony. She says it stinks. It's the emission from the street below. And the noise. We are in the middle of London after all.

It was a cool evening and the usual bustle of the city going on underneath me while I didn't have to take part in it somehow soothed me.

Then I went into James' room. He was fast asleep. One leg had escaped the shelter of the blanket and I tucked it safely back into the warmth of the cover. He stirred slightly, murmured something and turned to the other side. I ran my hand through his blonde hair, then I sat next to his bed and told him how my day had been. What had gone wrong. I spoke quietly not to wake him.

When I went to bed, Louisa was still busy with her preparations. I tried to sleep. I couldn't. When Louisa finally joined me in the middle of the night, I pretended to be asleep. I didn't want to risk that she wanted to talk. I couldn't tell her anymore.

The Louisa I had met in Portwenn, I could have told her. She'd understand.

I couldn't bother the busy teacher lying next to me now with my stupid problems.

I wonder now how often James feels that way. Bursting with news, devastated because something in his little world has gone wrong, proud because he had succeeded in something he had failed in before – and Louisa and I aren't there or are too busy to be bothered.

And Louisa? Does she have someone to talk to? We do talk, of course, but maybe she also has her moments of despair and I'm not there to listen, or I am engrossed in some journal, or I am simply too tired to listen properly.

How often are we living next to each other instead of together?

How much do we have in common still? Or is she just still with me because she didn't have any reason to leave, because we have settled? I hope Ruth hadn't been right at the beginning that we are just together for James' sake. That's a horrid thought.

I lie back in bed. It's time to get some sleep. At least I've taken some action now. Things will change. If for the better we will see. This weekend will be a turning point.

We will see then if this family is worth being the centre of our attention instead of something to fill our spare time with.

Content that I've taken the situation in hand I can sleep quietly now.

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I wake up even before the alarm clock goes off. I feel refreshed. I feel as good as I haven't felt in a long time. I can hardly wait for the day to start.

This is the last full day of the conference. The day is packed, including an evening event with dinner. I'll probably skip that, although Imperial had instructed me to be there. Networking, they call it. Waste of time is what I say.

Fact is, tomorrow in the early afternoon everyone will be packing up and I will never see anyone again. Hopefully. So why waste time in chatting with people soon forgotten?

I take a shower. My thoughts wander while warm water is flowing all over me.

I'm not sure what my professional future looks like. When I arrived here, it was crystal clear. Since last night there is the one or the other question mark popping up. We'll see. I am at the crossroads, again, and I reflect on my options.

As far as I can see it, I have three. One is desirable, one is bearable, one is horrible. I realise that maybe I should go to this shindig tonight. I might need any points I could get in the good book of my boss. I take a gamble, and the stakes are high, and I have to play my trumps the best I can. And doing something to get them on my side can't hurt.

It is odd for a creature of habit like me to find myself in the same position over and over again to re-invent myself. I've been many things in my life. Strangely enough, mostly I end up where I wanted to go.

I wanted to be a surgeon, and ended up as a GP, just to become a surgeon again.

I wanted to be in London, where every British surgeon, who takes any pride in his job, should be, but I ended up in Portwenn, and then back to London.

I wanted to concentrate on my career, after one disastrous try in relationships, but ended up as partner and father. My lessons in life taught me that I usually end up where I started, even when it is sometimes reached over crooked paths. This time I have to prevent that.

My family is the one thing I have gained in life that I have to hold on to. This is the one thing I can't risk losing. This is the one thing worth making an effort for.

While rubbing shower gel all over me, I remember a line from the time way back then when I had been interested in poetry. You do silly things when you're young. I had felt then that these poets had expressed what I was struggling with at that time of life. I had felt that I wasn't alone with my internal turmoil. That they would have understood me if I'd met them. As I say, silly. But one of Rudyard Kipling's verses comes to my mind, which summons up pretty much what I'm facing now:

"_If you can make one heap of all your winnings_

_And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss"_.

I don't dare to quote this poem any further, as the outcome of that game is not what I've got in mind for me. But then, I don't want to gain the earth with my deeds. I just want to save our relationship.

I will do that. I'm determined. We Ellinghams are stubborn, notoriously so, and if we set our minds to do something, then we do it with everything we got.

"_If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew_

_To serve your turn long after they are gone,_

_And so hold on when there is nothing in you_

_Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'."_

My thoughts have been wandering throughout my morning routine, and now I have showered, shaved and just finished brushing my teeth, so I spit into the sink. Dressed in a fresh suit, I'm ready for the day. Whatever it may bring.

I go down for breakfast and realise that there are lots of things I've got to do. I can't wait for the end of the conference, as I can't do everything I need to do when it's night time in England. I go through the morning's agenda and try to assess which presentation can be skipped without any problem.

Another participant of the conference comes into the breakfast room, scans the room and darts towards me. Not now. I'm busy.

He nods towards the chair. "Is it…"

"No."

"Oh." He looks a bit dumbfounded, but then trots off. Why do people think just because you're in the same profession, you want to fraternise with them? I do have a life outside this conference centre and I just realised that it needs some maintenance work. Maybe even major rebuilding.

I start making a list in my head of what I've got to do today. I look at my watch. Half past eight. That means it's 1:30 pm in London. That should give me time enough to finish my first call before the conference actually starts.

I'd just finished my breakfast – toast, a boiled egg and coffee – and the next participant of the conference is heading towards me. He nods towards the empty chair opposite me, and I nod.

He sits down and starts immediately to prattle on. "Dr. Ellingham, I must say, your presentation yesterday – supreme. An absolute highlight. To be honest, some talks are real crap, if you know what I mean…"

He stares at me mouth agape when I get up and stride towards the door without any comment. I snatch my mobile out of my breast pocket and speed dial the number of the farm. I just hear the answering machine, so Aunt Ruth must be out. I hate those machines and ignore the tone and ring off without saying a word. I have to try later.

I'm standing in the lobby, staring at the mobile and think what call I can make now. Then I remember. I dial the number.

"Hello?" A female voice with strong Mediterranean accent greets me.

"Ana? Is that you?"

"Dr. Ellingham?" There is a distinct panic in her voice and I ask myself for the hundredth time why I do have this affect on others. I never harmed anyone ever. I do everything to do my duty the best I can. For a man who is awkward with people and always try to shield himself from their mean streaks and ill talk, I seem to be quite capable of scaring people with just being me. Something that has always puzzled me.

The panicky voice continues. "Is anything the problem? Why are you calling?"

"No problem. Is James there?"

"We are about to take a walk after lunch."

"Can I talk to him?" I feel awkward asking over the phone to speak to my son, but I need to hear a friendly voice now.

"He is fine, you don't have to check."

"I am not checking and I do wish to talk to James!" I practically yell into the speaker. Why do I have to justify my wish to talk to my son? In hospital, I have seen many colleagues talking to their infant children over the phone. I got the impression that it is quite normal. Why am I not allowed to do it?

A timid voice answers. "Of course, Dr. Ellingham." Then I hear a rather cheerful, stronger voice shouting in my flat.

"Holà, niño! Es tu padre. Quieres habla con tigo. Veni aquí! Rápido,!"

Into the speaker she talks again with this timid voice. "Sorry, Dr. Ellingham, but I've been instructed to speak Spanish to him between one and two in the afternoons, I just told James..."

"I did understand. I'm not a complete idiot." I interrupt her.

"Of course not, Dr. Ellingham." While this meek voice is beginning to get on my nerves, I hear something that prevents my patience from wearing thin. Small feet quickly tapping over our parquet, excitedly shouting "Daddy!"

There are only two sounds in this entire world which I can't do without, which would break my heart if I could never hear them again. One of them I'm hearing right now. The other one is the way Louisa says my name breathlessly when we're together, alone.

The next thing I hear is the voice of my little son. "Daddy!"

"Hello, James." I realise that I haven't the slightest idea how to talk to my son over the phone. I've never done that before.

"Daddy, you _are_ home for tea today, please!"

"Sorry, James. I can't possibly be home tonight."

"But Daddy, we had to eat without you for too long."

"I know."

"But why?" There is childish defiance in his voice and I envy him for still having credit to use that.

"I've got to work."

"But you're always home for tea after work. And you've got to read me a story tonight." I hear a tiny foot stomping at the floor.

"James." I say sternly.

"Yes, Daddy." My son knows exactly what he's done wrong and has learned that I don't tolerate that. He hears it in my voice. "But why do you like it better to eat with those people than with us!"

"I do not like it better. I've got to. There are things that we can't influence."

"But you are the boss."

"No, not entirely. I do have a boss, and he told me to be here. So I will miss tonight's meal, and tomorrow's, and then I will be home shortly after you and your Mummy have eaten on Friday."

There is a small pause, and I try to imagine my little son's face frowning as he tries to take the information in.

"But that's an awful long time." He finally says.

"Yes, James, it is."

"But I want you to be home tonight."

"James, that is not possible." Secretly I'm delighted that I am missed that badly.

"Are they nice people?"

I'm a bit puzzled. "Who?"

"With who you eat now."

"With _whom_ you eat now." I correct him.

"Okay. Are they?"

"Not particularly."

"You don't like them?"

"No."

"Then come here. Mummy and I are missing you terribly."

I look around. The lobby is empty except for some disinterested receptionists. "I miss you, too. And you've got to be a nice boy for your Mummy. After all, you're the man of the house, now. Be on your best behaviour."

Again my son pauses, as he always does when he has to understand what he is told. Then a grave little voice confirms. "Yes, Daddy. I will. Mummy needs us."

The sincerity my son shows sometimes touches my heart and also gives my heart a twinge at the same time. He reminds me of how I was when I was little. I just hope it's not a bad omen.

I swallow the lump in my throat and confirm. "Yes, young man, she does."

"Then I will give her a hug when she comes home."

"That would be nice. She'll like that. And James, would you like us to make a little trip this weekend."

"Will Mummy come with us?"

"Of course she will."

"It's just, she hasn't told me. She always tells me."

"It was a surprise for her, too. She didn't know. So do you want to come with Mummy and Daddy on a little trip?"

"Yes, yes." My son is exited. His voice high and shaky. "Where to?"

"It's a surprise."

"Then I'll ask Mum."

"It's a surprise for her, too. She can't tell you. You just have to wait."

Again a little pause. "When is the weekend?" He asks.

"You go to bed, then you wake up, then it's tomorrow. Then you go to bed and you wake up and then it's Friday. That evening I will come home and Mummy and you will pick me up at the station. We will take the night train and then, when you wake up the next time, we're there. Do you mind if we travel at night?"

"You mean we'll be on the train for the whole night?" My son is obsessed with trains and I can hear the excitement in his voice.

"Yes, James."

"Cool!"

"James." I scold him. I don't approve of that informal talk.

"Good." He corrects himself.

"Do you think you can sleep on the train?" I don't want him to miss his night sleep, nor us.

My son pauses again before he asks tentatively: "Do I have to?"

"Yes, James. You've got to sleep."

"Alright, Daddy." He is disappointed, and I don't like that, but a regular sleeping pattern is essential in the developing years.

"We'll have a great time." I assure my son and add in my mind '_I hope_', as I am pretty certain that James will like it, but I'm not so sure about Louisa. "Can you give the phone to Ana again, please?"

"Daddy?"

"Yes, James."

"Is this our secret?"

"What do you mean?"

"Uhm, if it's a surprise for Mum – can I talk with her? Tell her?"

"Yes, James. She knows about it as much as you do."

There is this telling pause again, then my son whispers in a grave voice. "You can tell me where we go. I won't tell Mummy. Cross my heart and hope to die."

I can hear in his affirmations that he is bursting with curiosity, but he has to live with that. He has to learn to control these urges.

"No, James. This is as much as you're going to hear. Now give me Ana."

My son utters his goodbye and then hands the speaker back to his nanny. I instruct her on what she should pack for James' little weekend trip. I especially tell her to pack some board games and his favourite books into his rucksack, so that we can entertain him on the train before we can hopefully get him to sleep.

I realise that this whole expedition is sheer madness and that having a train ride with a toddler is not the most sensible thing to do, but I think it is my only chance. I have to try this, or I will blame myself for the rest of my life. And I need James to be there as my ally.

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I sit through the morning session. The presentations don't hold much interest for me. Maybe it's because the _findings_ are not so new after all, maybe it's because my mind is distracted by private matters.

Before I'd met Louisa, I could never imagine anything could distract my attention from clinical matters, anything could make me not pay 100% attention to my job. I've learned now that there are more important things in life. If I'd been given the choice to keep my job and lose my family or lose my job for the sake of Louisa or James, I'd choose the latter.

I ponder about that while someone prattles on about how to buy time in case of a stroke. I tune into the speech from time to time to make sure that I'm not missing anything of any value, but until now it seems I can easily follow my thoughts.

Finally it's coffee break. Noon. That means it is tea time in England.

I will never understand why every conference is interrupted every third hour and a parade of absolutely useless snacks is offered. Especially in our profession people should know better.

I take a glass of bottled water and withdraw into a quiet corner. No one seems to notice my departure. The good thing is, hardly anyone is ever interested in you here. I'll miss that.

After thinking about my plan the whole morning I'm far less convinced about its soundness as I've been during the night or even this morning, but I've set the wheels rolling, and now I've got to stick with my plan.

After calming my nerves with a sip of water, I speed dial the farm's telephone number again. It rings three times.

"Hello?" It's the familiar voice of my aunt, and I'm not quite certain if I should be glad that she answered or not.

"Uhm…Ruth, it's me. Martin."

"Ah."

"Yes. I wanted to talk to you."

"Obviously."

"Ehm…yes."

"I thought you were on a conference somewhere over the _Big Pond_."

"Ithaca." I specify.

"And suddenly you've got the irrepressible urge to talk to your old aunt?"

"No."

"What is it then? Did they talk about a new treatment for Sjögren's?"

"It's a surgeon's conference."

"Oh yes, I forgot. You're back to _real_ medicine again."

"Surgery."

"That's what I mean."

"I have no time for chit-chat. I'm calling during a coffee break."

"Then fire ahead. I'm all ears."

"Can we stay at your farm this weekend?"

"Why?"

"Simple enough question – yes or no."

"Martin, don't tell me you're so occupied that you can't even explain your sudden wish to come to Cornwall years after you couldn't leave it quick enough?"

"It's personal."

"So it's Louisa."

"She doesn't know."

"I thought she might have insisted on a visit after what I told you the last time on the phone."

"She doesn't know."

"So you kept that information to yourself? Very wise."

"She didn't want to know."

"How could she decide that she didn't want to know without knowing what you're talking about?"

"She doesn't want to know anything about Portwenn."

There is a pause at the other end of the line and I can practically hear my aunt thinking.

"You do realise what that means?" She finally asks.

"I'm not a complete idiot."

"No, no idiot, but sometimes…when other people are involved."

"Louisa isn't any other people."

"I realise that."

"Good."

"But if she doesn't want to know anything about Portwenn, how come you need a room for the weekend?"

"I think she should know."

"Sort of a surprise visit?"

"Uhum."

"And you really do think that this is a good idea?"

"Yes." I state with more conviction than I'm feeling.

"Did you think about the possible consequences? Are you willing to accept them?"

"Yes." This time I can answer wholeheartedly as I had hardly done anything else but think about the possible consequences in the last twelve hours and I am hell bound to do whatever it takes to make our life a happier one.

"Right." I hear my aunt. "You're old enough to know what you're doing, but don't come whinging if Louisa makes plans you don't like."

"I won't!" I am hurt that obviously all of my relations seem to takes me for an egocentric needy little brat.

"Great. I'm reminding you in case you do. So, I will have two guests over the weekend?"

"Three."

"Oh no! You're not bringing James, are you? I'm really not used to accommodating children. How exactly do you make a house childproof?"

"James is well-behaved and we won't leave him alone."

"Tut, tut, tut. Who would have ever thought that I would live to see the day. To see an Ellingham have family feelings? You're really one of a kind, Martin."

"I'd say it is quite normal to care for your offspring. Humans are not nidifugous and depend on their parents for the first years of their life."

"Is that your idea or do I hear Louisa speaking?"

"It's a biological fact."

"I do know biology, Martin, but to be honest, in this family I've never experienced anything like it."

"Then you'll need to get used to it."

"Will you all be staying in the same room, or do I have to prepare two separate rooms – or even three, in case Louisa is not so enthusiastic about your surprise?"

"Very funny." I sneer. "Two."

"Good. Two rooms coming up. I'm ashamed to admit to it, but I'm looking forward to seeing you."

"Good. Uhm, can you pick us up at Bodmin Parkway?"

"Oh, so you need a room and shuttle service?"

"We can take a taxi."

"Don't be ridiculous. The old Merc has seen better days, but it will survive one trip to the station. When will you arrive?"

"I'll check then call you as soon as I have booked the train. I assume you still don't have an email address?"

"Wouldn't make much sense without a computer. I like the physical experience of writing."

"How's the progress on your book?"

"Martin, how long are the coffee breaks at your conference? Don't you have to get back?"

With that, she rings off.

_To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I sit through the rest of the conference day. I'm grateful for every remotely interesting presentation, as it keeps my mind from wandering, from making all possible assumptions.

During the lunch break, I have to fend off several other surgeons as they feel compelled to include me in their networking schemes. Why should anyone ever consider asking someone for professional advice if you have just met him once on a conference? If he is miles away? I hardly understand why people ask for professional advice constantly at all.

We are paid to know the answers. We studied long for it and are obliged to keep our knowledge up to date. If you do that, combined with the daily practise, you should be able to do your job. I can remember just a handful of occasions where I had felt the wish to confer with someone else, but I found out on all of these occasions that I never found anyone able to help me. So in my experience networking means that others spare themselves the trouble to thinking about a solution and rather call me to do their work. Thanks, but _no _thanks!

I used some less interesting presentations to make a list of all the things I need to do before I'll pack my things tomorrow and board the flight. I can't wait for the conference to end. I miss Louisa and James Henry terribly. Speaking with him this morning had only made me miss him more.

I try to think about the consequences that my recent actions may have on his life. I hope he will profit from my decision.

Well, maybe nothing will change, after all. There still is this possibility, but somehow I can't see that it will be a very realistic one.

I've almost made it through the day now and I'm anxiously awaiting the end of the discussion of this last presentation. It is just before 5 p.m. At eight, the dinner will start. I decided that I have to show myself there for the sake of Imperial.

The discussion is still going on, when I feel the vibration alarm of my mobile in my breast pocket. I look at the display. Louisa is calling me. I get up abruptly and squeeze through the rows to get to the door. I vaguely register some swearing while I answer the call.

"Louisa?"

"Martin, can you speak?"

"Uhm, in a moment."

"Your day has ended, hasn't it?"

"No."

"Oh, I thought at five?"

"It's not always that punctual. Sometimes topics are discussed longer than planned, leading to delays."

"I don't want to keep you from any interesting discussions. Just call me as soon as you've finished."

"I have."

"But I thought…"

"The discussion haven't, but I have."

"I see." There is something in her voice that I don't like, as if she disapproves of something. "I can call you later if you prefer. There is no need to keep you from the discussion."

"Nothing interesting. Some stupid idiots didn't get their facts right. Anything wrong? Are you alright? Is James Henry fine?"

It is unusual for Louisa to call me. As you can't always tell for certain at which time you'll be available on conference, we had agreed that I'd call her every night. There must be something serious if she decided to call me. I think I know what that is, but I want to be certain that there is no more serious reason.

"Yeah, don't fuss. James and I are fine."

"Good. Is anything else the matter?"

"I should be asking _you_?"

"I'm fine." I quickly reply.

"Sure?"

"Absolutely."

"It's not often that you call someone in the middle of the night, but last night you did. Then you called James today, and it must have been during the conference, and you never do that either. So I'm worried."

"No need."

"You seemed…upset…last night."

"Me? No."

"So will you please tell me what this is all about?" While we have been talking I had retreated to my room and now I slump down on the bed, while I keep on listening to Louisa's attempts to make sense of my actions. "What is it about me having to come to Paddington?"

I remember our nightly conversation.

"Could Charlene take your shift?"

"Shirley." Louisa corrects me swiftly, as she always does. Sometimes it seems to me she has a whole telephone book in her head as she can address all friends and colleagues with correct Christian and surname and furthermore has basically all telephone numbers memorised, too. "Yes, I can make it this weekend, but I certainly want to know why I had to re-arrange all my appointments."

"We're going away this weekend."

"Thanks very much for this valuable information. Your request for me to meet you at Paddington with luggage actually gave me a hint. I just want to know where to."

"Ehm…You'll see on Friday."

"To be honest…Martin. I…I talked to James earlier, and he quite excitedly told me that our journey would be a surprise, for him as well as for me. Please, don't take it the wrong way, but you're not really so good at surprises." I can hear in Louisa's voice that she is rather tentatively trying to tell me that I'm rubbish in surprising her, and I do know that. The few attempts I have made ended rather disastrously.

I briefly realise contently how far we have come that I can even read her moods and intentions over the phone, while they had been a closed book for me for years. She is on the edge, but so am I. She does like being in control, as I have learned over the years, and so do I. Normally we inform each other about every step, so our interests don't clash. I can see that me planning this journey without informing her must be almost unbearable for her. However, I do not dare to inform her this time.

"Trust me." Is the best I can say.

"Has something come up during the conference?" She has to know more and I really hate to leave her in the limbo, but if I don't want to jeopardise my plans I do have to stick with it.

"Like what?"

"Martin, if you've gotten another job offer worth considering you can't just pack all your things inclusively James and me into your Lexus and drive off. Not now, when I finally have made some friends here. I don't want to start new. Not again. Really, Martin, that is so thoughtless…"

I simply do have to stop her there, as she is getting excited without any good reason at all. How can someone get so worked up without any reason at all?

"Stop it." I say more harshly than intended.

"Oh, that's the way it is!" Louisa is now truly angry. "You really do think that we are your private property and that you can pack us wherever, whenever you like!"

"Louisa, you don't even know what this is all about, but…"

"Exactly, because you refuse to tell me! When will you ever learn that decisions have to be made together?"

"I HAVEN'T MADE ANY DECISIONS!" I practically bark into the speaker. Why does she have to expect the worst and get excited at the product of her imagination?

"Oh…uhm…that's good…I suppose." Louisa's rage has softened a bit.

"We are just going away for a weekend, on Monday we'll be back home. Do you understand?"

"If there isn't more to it than a weekend trip, then I don't understand the secrecy nor the urgency. Couldn't you tell me before you went to Ithaca?"

"I didn't know then."

"So something has come up during the conference."

"Not really."

"Is it a job offer?"

"No."

"So why do we have to go, and this weekend?"

I breathe heavily. I don't like conversations like this. I don't know what to say. There is a good reason why we have to go this weekend, but I can't tell her that. I can't lie either, I never was good at that. Louisa is in a difficult mood and I can't just ignore her question.

I sigh.

"Martin?"

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong with you?" She sounds worried.

I ponder a moment about the right answer. Physically I am fine, but something feels off.

"I miss you."

There is silence at the other end.

The silence fills the room, it expands and it seems to me that this silence fills the whole distance between London and Ithaca.

The worst thing is that I had realised now that this silence had filled our flat, too. This distance that has always been there between us.

After what seems ages Louisa's voice is filling the silence. "You're back on Friday. The worst is over."

"No, I missed you before."

"What?" Louisa can't understand me. I can't blame her. I hardly understand myself anymore.

"I'll explain when I'm back. It's complicated."

Silence is again filling the line, the room, my brain.

"Are you really sure that you are fine? You seem…odd? Has something happened?"

"Nothing."

"Has this anything to do with this mysterious weekend trip?"

"I just want to be with you and James."

This time a short silence follows and when Louisa speaks she's stating a fact, not asking. "Without my appointments being in the way. Without your work on the desk."

"Just us."

"Sorry, Martin. I'll be at the station."

"Good."

"Anything else? Do you need me to bring something? Anything special to pack?"

"No. Everything's sorted."

"So that's it for now. Will you call later?"

"There's some idiotic dinner later."

"But you never go."

"I have to."

"Are you really feeling well?"

"Robert insisted."

"He has before and you ignored him. Are you sure that there is no business change ahead? You'd tell me?"

"No."

"You wouldn't?"

"No, there isn't. It's just part of the job."

"I guess you'll survive. Once."

"Hopefully. It'll be too late to call when I'm back in my room."

"So you call tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Try to enjoy the evening."

"I won't. Sleep well."

_To be continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I've just boarded the plane to Heathrow. It's the early hours in New York. Tonight, I will be back in England. Part of this night, I spent at the airport to be on time for the check-in. Next night I will spend on a train. A valid sign that my life is in motion right now.

I did book sleeper cabins on the Night Riviera Sleeper while waiting for the dinner last night at the conference. These are the advantages of the internet. You can arrange things from all over the world. Unfortunately, there was just one sensible opportunity and the arrangement is not exactly to my liking.

The train goes at quarter to twelve tonight. Sheer madness. For me, but especially for James. However, it's the only way to be in Portwenn tomorrow noon, and that's where we'll have to be.

I informed my aunt that we'll be at Bodmin Parkway at 6:21. Luckily she's an early riser, and once out of Portwenn the roads are reasonably good and traffic on early Saturday morning should be easy. She agreed, not without the typical Ellingham sarcasm, but she'll be there.

Since we had left Portwenn three years ago, Ruth has visited us a couple of times when she got her regular share of urban air. She seems to crave the excitement and pollution of the metropolis as others do with sea air. I've never understood what made her stay in Portwenn. It can't be just because Joan left the farm to her. I'm not even sure Ruth knows what's kept her in the backwater without any good reason.

Ruth is a bit like me. She needs intellectual stimuli. She's always enjoyed her job, odd as it had been, and especially liked conferences where she could confer with her peers.

I don't know where she gets any reasonable social interaction from in Portwenn. Sometimes it seems to me she has taken on her very private project: saving Al Large.

At least she had succeeded in getting him out of the clutches of Bert '_pain-in-the-you-know-what' _Large. It's not just that she has taken him on to run her farm, much to the disdain of his overbearing, useless father who always depended on Al to undo any damage he'd done, Ruth also encouraged Al to convert one of the barns into a flat for him. First she'd told him it was just for the busy times on the farm, so that he could take a shower or maybe sleep there if the work had been too hard or too long and he didn't want to go back to the village. As far as I understood, he's living there full time now.

Ruth also encouraged him to enrol into Open University after she had learned about his early ambitions to work with computers. So he's studying Computing and I.T. now.

To be fair, Al was always one of the less annoying lot and if there was any crisis ever, he was the most likely to act sensibly and try at least to solve the problem. From what I understand, he is also quite good at chess, as Ruth is constantly complaining that he keeps beating her.

I had played with her when I was a youngster, so I know from my own experience that she isn't easy to beat. So I might have to give him credit for some brains.

It is so typical for Portwenn that Al, the only reasonably intelligent, decent man in the whole village, is one of the few who can't seem to find a partner. His fruitless and seemingly desperate attempts with most of my former receptionist were a rather sorry sight. He would have deserved better, especially as he was always on the giving end of the relationship, but it didn't do him any good. I don't know how his father – loathsome, prying, lazy bugger, know-better, and irresponsibly scheming – Bert had been able to find a wife once, when Al is struggling.

It proves again how little I do understand human relationships. Or maybe the world is simply Bodmin.

Or maybe it just proves my state of mind thinking about things that are not my business. I try to pull myself together. Given the fact that I won't get much sleep tonight and that I have only dozed a few hours at the airport, it would be sensible to get some sleep.

I'm knackered, but sleep doesn't come easy. I am worried and excited and my thoughts are racing. I check again if I haven't forgotten anything, but everything that has to be done for this weekend is done. Even Ana knows what to pack for James for the weekend and was instructed to let him have an extra nap so that he'll be fit for the journey.

If Louisa reacts the way I suppose she will, there will be much more to do from Monday on. Many rather painful decisions have to be made. I might face a rather awkward talk with my boss. We will see. Better not think about it now.

I'm looking forward to seeing Louisa and James. We'll meet at Paddington. Thanks to the Heathrow Express, I should be there before 11 pm. Almost an hour before we have to be on the train, but as I booked first class, the time can be easily spent in the First Class lounge so we don't have to mix with all the plebs lurking on nightly train stations.

I guess being with Louisa has made me appreciate these amenities more. For me, it has always been natural that people do what you pay them for. Louisa never had these privileges before. And I'm not just talking about her father gambling away the small remnants of a sorry excuse for an income. Also when she earned her own money, it was barely enough to live decently within limits, as loans and mortgages were eating away a good chunk of her money.

Therefore, Louisa appreciates these '_treats'_ more than I do, and I have to confess honestly that I do enjoy making it possible for her to travel first class, having the best seats in a concert, going into a good restaurant if we have to eat out. I never really noticed these things as something special before, but it seems that Louisa takes a strange pride in being treated special. She told me once that it makes her feel '_important'_.

My comment that the importance just goes as far as your money lasts didn't go down well. What promised to be a cosy night after an expensive and for Louisa obviously enjoyable evening turned into one of those battlefields.

In my defence I have to add that this had been almost two years ago and I've learned to keep my mouth shut in situations like that now. Not that I do think differently, but I don't have to blurt it out anymore.

I lean back and remember the way I have come. For me, it had been a way from purgatory to resurrections. It went uphill, step by step. And now I'm on top again. There is not one surgeon in England who doesn't want to work for me, there is not one hospital that wouldn't embrace me with open arms if I'd show any interest, there is not one VIP patient that wouldn't want to be operated on by me in my field.

When I'd been in Cornwall, in my shameful years, this is exactly what I dreamt about. The private parking space on the hospital car park, the private en-suite office, a team of qualified assistants and nurses, where you are allowed to pick from the best in the country, as London has highly qualified staff by the dozen. Not to be questioned by any of your subordinates, everyone doing exactly what you say. I missed the respect. I missed the responsibility. I missed the challenge.

To be honest, I still think I didn't get the respect that I deserved in that blasted village. The inbreds stick together so they can do whatever they want and are always right, simply because they are in the majority. Nothing has to make sense, as long as it is in consensus with the village.

I have to admit, I'm not sure if I can take that again. I am not sure that I will be willing to put up with someone like Pauline, or Morwenna – or heaven forbid even that unspeakable disaster of Elaine! - again. I am not sure that I am able to. Not even for Louisa.

I can't even say what had been worse about the receptionists: Their unprofessional attitude, their hilarious way of dressing or their obnoxious tendency to talk back to me.

But when I had been fed up with Elaine, the village made it pretty clear what the hierarchy was – the local receptionist had the power over me, not the other way around.

I didn't have anything to say about engaging any of my receptionists. I can't imagine any other GP from here to Madagascar who doesn't have the slightest influence on who is working for him. I was presented with the solutions the villagers had arranged, and even Bert knew before I did that Pauline had taken the job from her cousin before I even had seen my new receptionist once.

It was a very educational time for me, as I never would have thought anything like this would be possible.

I will do everything never to be in a situation like that again. I owe that to my self-respect.

_To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

But I owe something to Louisa, too. Quite a lot, actually.

I suppose I never was honest enough to admit it. Not fully.

This week away from her showed me what she has given to me. The nights of tossing and turning and thinking, when she is not sharing my bed.

The restlessness when I have to end a day without seeing James.

The peace I feel when I come into his little room, sit down on the chair beside his bed and wait for him to put a book into my hands, the one he wants to be read to him. He looks so earnest, brow wrinkled, when he is choosing his bed time story, as if a serious decision is to be made that can influence the future of the whole world. I smile inwardly when he is engrossed in this serious task, and to my own amazement, I am completely calm. With everyone else I would explode about the indecisiveness in such a minor thing. With James, I could watch him patiently all evening. I would never have thought it possible.

Louisa had made sure from the start that he had a vast collection of books, and so far he seems to enjoy them.

It is there that I can get rid of the burdens I'm carrying. It is there where the hustle of the day fades away. It is there where I can be without any pressure.

And the twinkling eyes of my son, suppressing a yawn, looking at me with expectation are the most precious thing in the entire world.

I think I know now why I'd developed the panic attacks in my job before. I was carrying my burden like a donkey, adding to it every day, feeling the pressure to prove and defend myself, and had no place to put my burdens down. To take a rest. To re-charge my batteries.

I have found this place now in the sleeping room of our little son.

I have found this place when I can be with Louisa, just silently breathing the same air – wherever that may be.

But I am afraid that I have taken that space from Louisa. Maybe Louisa needs different things than I do. I have to admit, she never complained. She is more quietly suffering. Maybe that is the problem, as I am not good at taking hints. Being with her every day, I haven't realised the change, but I can feel in her touch that the energy has left her.

Maybe the pressure I do not feel anymore is added to her burden. She is a bit prickly, lately. She is also less playful. At the beginning of our relationship, she had the tendency to say or do things that caught me unaware, that left me speechless, maybe even shocked me. Although I always like to be in control and felt anything but in control in those moments, it was strangely exciting. It gave an energizing buzz through my body. Maybe I'm not so easy to shock anymore, as I am more comfortable with us being together now, but I don't think that this is the only reason.

We have settled into a comfortable relationship. I don't complain, because it is more than I ever had, but I am not so sure anymore that this is what Louisa wants.

I owe my whole personal and professional happiness to Louisa. I didn't do anything to earn that. I don't really deserve this. I would have been stuck in my misery if Louisa hadn't taken me by the hand and dragged me forward, for a long time almost against my will.

Maybe she is stuck in the situation I have put her in, now. I remember painfully her comment a few weeks after James was born. Louisa's horrible mother, who thankfully never cared again for her daughter except for an occasional phone call or card, had a date with a fisherman, and Louisa admitted she was jealous of her, that she felt she was stuck with me and the baby. I cringed when she blurted that out. It was too spontaneous not to be heartfelt and it was what I had expected. Since then, I tried to make up for it that she's staying with me. Now, thinking back, I did it at my terms. I gave her what I had regarded as treats. I probably missed what Louisa really needed.

Maybe I should be content with what I have now. I have thrown a stone into the water and we will see if the waves will clear the water or wash my happiness away. I suddenly feel sick in my stomach and start to worry if I'm doing the right thing.

I remember Louisa standing in my kitchen in Portwenn and confessing with a stricken face that she was worrying about her future, asking if I did, too. I didn't then. I didn't have any plans, any ambitions then. I thought life had passed me by. I thought I had mucked up my only chance. If you don't have a goal in life, you're not worrying about anything. I did my duty, I was functioning on a day to day basis. I did my best in the worst of jobs for the sake of my self respect.

This moment, I understand the Louisa of years ago. I have done nothing but worry about my, no – our – future for the last couple of days. Maybe it shows that I have something in my life again worth living for, worth caring about. I don't know if Louisa still has these worries. I don't know what it would say about our relationship if she hasn't. At least she doesn't talk about her worries with me anymore.

I suppose I have every reason to worry now.

_To be continued…_


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Fasten your seatbelts, please. We are approaching Heathrow airport. It is twenty minutes to ten local time. We hope you had a pleasant journey."

The usual phrases of a bored stewardess at the end of a long working day are blurring over the loudspeaker and I wake up with a start. I realise that I had fallen asleep after all. Drowsily I search for my seatbelt to fasten it. I'm not quite awake yet, just functioning by instinct now.

Finally safely seated, I lean back, making some movements to relax my neck muscles which don't take naps on a plane lightly.

The first thought that flashes through my brain is that it won't be long before I will see James and Louisa. They are probably packing their last things right now and preparing to leave for Paddington.

I had never looked forward to the end of a journey as much as I do now. There is a flutter in my stomach. I crane my neck, partly because it hurts, partly because I have to compose myself. The stewardess is squeezing through the aisles, checking the safety of the passengers, and I grunt at her as she runs into me.

Is it just me, or has no landing ever been so slow as it is today? Especially today. Today of all days. I look at my watch from time to time and I am always shocked that the hands have just moved further by a minute. Maybe there is something wrong with the battery? I hold the watch to my ear, listening to the constant ticking, trying to figure out if it is slower than normal. Usually, I pride myself for having a very good sense of time. Today it seems to be off. Must be the jetlag.

As soon as the plane lands and is losing speed, I loosen my seatbelt and get up. I am sitting rather at the front, so not many people in front of me, but on the last few feet before the exit, the aisle is filling up. I push my way through people reaching up to get their hand luggage. Stoically I rush towards the exit, ignoring the swearing behind me, looking through the stewardesses waiting at the door saying their usual nonsense. I have no time for that. I need to get to the Heathrow Express.

I am the first at the baggage carousel. I look at it for ages. It simply doesn't move. The hall is filling with the other passengers. Some are chatting away, others are staring at the baggage carousel, just like me. I look again at my watch almost every minute, but this time it takes indeed a long time before it starts to move, and soon afterwards, the first bags come into view. First a ridiculously violet-yellow sports bag appears. I wrinkle my nose as I can't imagine anyone wanting to be seen with anything like it in public. My disdain grows as an adult man is reaching for it. It is maybe one of those tactics to use something ugly on a flight, so that no one wants to steal it. More and more bags, suitcases and trolley cases are emerging. Finally, the black trolley case comes into sight. I reach for it, and just as I got hold of the handle, I collide with another man in a suit who also tries to get it.

"Excuse me," he says in perfect upper class English, "I think this is my luggage."

I just fastened my grip and try to escape with the bag. Although I am towering over him by a head and him being considerably smaller than I am, his grip on the handle is quite strong. He manages to grab the case even tighter and pulls it towards him. Angrily I try to get a stronger grip on the handle and look at him in the way I use if I want to demonstrate my authority, but a pair of determined blue eyes are looking straight back at me.

In a demanding tone the educated voice speaks back at me.

"Sir, I did say it is my luggage. Could you _please_ let it go!"

I am a bit startled as I could never handle confrontations well. He seems not in the slightest impressed by me, not even when I practise the usual routine of seeming superior. My first reflex is to let the case drop and get away, but I don't have time for that. I have an appointment to keep.

"Get your own luggage," I snarl instead, "I don't have time for this, you unctuous meddler!"

"Neither have I, _Sir_", my opponent is hissing menacingly. "So if you could please just remove your dirty hands from my property!"

I gasp for air. This dwarf is acting outrageously! "Don't _'Sir' _me! I do have a long journey behind me and a long journey ahead, _if_ I can ever make it out of the airport with _my_ luggage! I am not in the mood for unqualified discussions. So bugger off!"

"Then take _your_ luggage and let me keep mine, and I'm fine about that, but you're not helping yourself to my belongings." This man keeps frustratingly calm in his demeanour.

"So this is your trolley case?" I sneer and try to lift the object in question without much success.

"Unless your initials are also '_RV_', I am pretty sure it is."

What? Initials? What initials? I look feverishly up and down this piece of luggage.

"The engraving near the lock." My opponent calmly specifies.

Finally my eyes are fixed on two tiny letters, artfully interwoven, clearly indicating that this is not my luggage after all. I feel my muscles growing weak, and this other man pulls at the handle vigorously and frees it from my grip.

"Can we leave it here or would you prefer the police to have a look into this matter?"

I hate his triumphant look.

Louisa always told me to use more distinctive luggage to avoid any confusion. I always put it aside as purely theoretical. Well, this oaf with the violet-yellow sports bag wouldn't have this problem, as not a second person would dare to travel with such a monstrosity.

I turn my back to him, mumbling something about having to look for my luggage.

During this little episode the hall has filled with an incredible amount of people. The plane had been pretty booked. All are crowding around the baggage carousel. I try to push my way forward, and after a bit of shuffling I manage to get into the first row.

I watch suitcases, trolley cases in all shades, forms and sizes, backpacks and even plastic carrier bags parade before me. From time to time someone is jabbing into my back or ribs to get past me to grab his desired bag. I'm swearing under my breath and curse the fact that my luggage always seems to be the last to leave the plane.

The number of people is thinning out and I look impatiently at my watch. It is getting later and later and I really would rather be on my way to Paddington now.

There are only some last sorry remnants of luggage on the carousel. Finally, a last single brown suitcase is snatched by a greedy fat hand and the movement stops. I look at the device. This can't be.

_To be coninued…_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Just now, the notice board switches to a flight coming from Cape Town. I try to peek around the corners to see if something got stuck or is still coming. I look around to find any responsible person, but of course there's no one. I try again to get somehow to the other side of this black hole which refuses to release my trolley case. I am just trying to squeeze myself through a gap, when suddenly a safety officer materialises in front of me.

"What exactly are you doing, Sir?"

"Trying to find my luggage, what do you think?!" I bark at him.

"You'd better get out of there immediately, or I'll inform the police. You are violating the safety restrictions. The luggage will be transported on the baggage carousel as soon as it is transferred from the plane."

"_Oh, thank you very much for this useless information_!" I hiss, trying to remove myself from my awkward position. "But it didn't!"

"You have to be patient, Sir. The plane has just landed."

"But they all got theirs!" I shout at him, waving into the direction where my fellow passengers all have disappeared, happily carrying their luggage. And time is passing by mercilessly. I feel my hackles rise.

"I want my luggage, now!" Finally I can free myself from the gap and tower over the safety officer. It has more effect on him than it had on the man before.

"So you're not coming from South Africa?"

"Do I look like a big game hunter?"

"Actually, I don't think Cape Town would be the right place…"

"You're not seriously trying to discuss South Africa with me now? If you have absolutely nothing better to do, maybe you can try to find my luggage?"

"Certainly, Sir. Just a moment."

He starts talking into his phone. The blurred noises on the other end confirm the flight number, then everything is quiet again. This little dimwit assures me that they are looking to see where my bag is. It will probably be found in no time. Problem is, this muppet hasn't even asked for a description of my luggage, doesn't even know if it is just one bag or more.

I feel the urge to cut down this bureaucratic eunuch down to the size he deserves, which would fit into a matchbox, if you'd ask me. Problem is that I don't have time. I have a tight journey schedule and should be on the Heathrow Express already. I can't allow missing that train to Cornwall.

My other problem is that it seems that I haven't got any luggage at all at the moment. Normally I don't bother with hand luggage. You hardly need anything during the flight and it just makes travelling more enervating. So, basically everything I planned to have this weekend seems to be lost.

The radio beeps again and with an optimistic smile, this man answers. My opponent has a quick talk with some bodiless voice, which assures confidently that the entire luggage of the New York flight has been transferred.

"It has not!" I bark. "Can I speak to the manager?"

"He's not in his office anymore, Sir. He'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Who is on duty, then?" I yell, determined to fight for my luggage. Preparing to call whoever might be responsible, even if I have to ring him out of bed, I switch my mobile on. When the display comes to life, I swear under my breath. This sorry affair has used up quite some time.

"Shit!"

"Sir?" This oaf gets on my nerves with his constant '_Sir'_. Stammering phrases instead of solving the problem.

"I have to get to the Heathrow Express, now!"

"The way is…"

"I know where to bloody go! It's not the first time I've taken the flight. It is just the bloody first time my luggage has been lost! I need to report that! Now! QUICK!" I am panicking. I have to hurry, but it seems this bloody inefficient twit is no help at all.

With the overwhelming speed of a glacier the officer leads me to the luggage desk. An equally slow young woman hands me some paper and asks me to fill in this form. With routine she rattles on. It seems not to be uncommon to lose some bags. Shouldn't be too difficult to transport the owner of a bag to the same destination as the luggage itself, one would think. I quickly fill in the data, name, address, flight number, description of the bag and whatever else was requested. Completely unimpressed, the clerk tells me that my delayed luggage will be sent on to me by courier. I just need to put down the address to which it should be delivered.

"I need my luggage to be in Cornwall tomorrow morning, is that understood?" I snarl.

"I'm sorry, Sir. That is highly unlikely. Normally, any delayed bags will be found within 72 hours and then returned to their owners. It's not very likely that we can retrieve your bag within the next 24 h. In case that there has been a mistake at the check-in, then the case might still be in New York. We have to organise the transfer first, but you might have your luggage back on Monday."

"On Monday I won't need it anymore, you idiot! I need it now!"

"We'll do what we can."

"Which is obviously not very much."

"I am sorry if you are not satisfied with our service. I can give you the number of the complaints department, if you like."

"I'd rather have my bag."

"I'm confident that it will be returned to you soon."

"Glad you are, any suggestions what I shall do until then?"

"You can get compensation when you claim your luggage as being lost."

"I just did."

"Not really, Sir. By now it is just delayed."

"So when would you regard my trolley case to be lost?"

"If the luggage can't be returned within 45 days, you can claim it as lost."

"45 days! I might have outgrown my clothes by then!"

"These are the regulations."

I grunt. It seems the rule book is a very potent cover and I won't be able to get through to these purely functioning service-robots.

"Tell your boss I will be calling him first thing tomorrow morning and he'd better have some information on my luggage then."

"If I may suggest, our help desk is far more suitable…"

"Your boss. Tomorrow at eight. Sharp. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

_To be continued…_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Now I definitely need to rush. I run towards the platform where the Heathrow Express leaves. Without any luggage I have nothing hindering me to run as fast as I can, pushing people aside and leaving curses in my wake. I storm downstairs and see the train already standing there. I have no time to buy a ticket. I can do that in the train.

I swerve round a luggage trolley which is pushed into my way by a ridiculously overweight couple in hilariously colourful shorts and shirts. Just as I have passed this obstacle and I think I can actually make it on the train, an obnoxious idiot is putting his suitcase down just on the way between me and the train. I can't stop to avoid it. In the last moment, I manage to jump over it, still speeding towards the open door. I jump onto the train, just at the moment when it closes its doors.

That was close. A minute later and I would have missed it, or worse, would have jumped against the closed door. I stand near the entrance for a moment, trying to catch my breath. In moments like this I realise I'm not as young anymore as I used to be.

Still puffing, I'm looking for an empty seat. The train isn't too crowded at this time of night. Apropos time. I take my mobile out and look at the time. It is around 11 pm. If nothing more goes wrong, then I still should make it in time.

I dial Louisa's number.

"Hello?"

"Louisa?"

"Martin! Where are you? Shouldn't you already be at Paddington? Is everything OK? Or can't you make it?"

"Where are you?"

"Where do you think I'd be? You told me to meet you at Paddington."

"Are you already on your way?"

"I'm at the station, why?"

"Bugger!"

"What's wrong? Can't you come? Is it called off?"

"No, I'm on my way."

"Good. So what's the problem?"

"I hoped you'd be still at home."

"James was all fidgety. He couldn't sleep and he was asking every second when he'd be able to see the trains. You know how mad he is about trains. So I thought we'd take an earlier tube and have a look around first."

"I told you to take a cab!"

"But the tube station is just around the corner and it's quicker than a cab."

"But in the middle of the night! The shady characters hanging round! It's not safe for a woman! Especially with a child!"

"Relax, Martin. Everything went smoothly. Don't be such a boggler."

"Still…"

"You'd better tell me why you wished I was still at home."

"My luggage."

"But I thought you'd have some with you."

"Yeah, I _thought_ so, too."

"What happened?"

"What happened?! They bloody lost my luggage!"

"What do you mean?"

"I thought it was crystal clear what I meant! I was at Heathrow, my case was not!"

"You don't have a thing with you, you mean?"

"Great analysis."

"Can't you buy something as soon as we arrive – wherever that may be?"

"I need my toiletry bag before that. I can't go into the village unshaven and unwashed."

"Village? What village?"

"At the coast." I realise that I gave myself away and hope that she's buying it that it might be some unspecified village near the coast. "Point is, I need some things. So I hoped you could bring me some."

"Sorry, we're already at the station…._not now, James, I'll be with you in a moment_ – sorry, there's a big train coming in and James wants to see where it's coming from –_ I'm talking to Daddy. We're going there in a minute_ – Sorry about that. Can I help?"

"Magically materialising my trolley case at Paddington?"

"I was more thinking of going into Boots to get some shaving cream, razors, toothbrush and such."

"Urgh."

"Sorry, Martin, but neither of us will have any chance to get your usual supply. You'll have to improvise and take what you can get."

"OK, get some."

"When will you get your luggage back?"

"Don't ask. Heaven knows. They didn't seem really bothered. It seems to happen regularly."

"So for the weekend?"

"I might save the suit to last for a couple of days, but I definitely need socks, underwear and a new shirt."

"It's a bit late for that, now. Most shops are already closed. There was a menswear shop somewhere. I remember passing one. I'll have a look but I won't be too optimistic that it is still open at 11pm."

"Great! Well, I'm at Paddington in about ten minutes. See you there."

"Bye. I'll see what I can do."

_To be continued…_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Finally at Paddington, I still have 20 minutes to find my family and get to the train. I stride towards the platforms and crane my neck to search for Louisa. Paddington is still pretty packed given that it is a quarter past eleven. I run around, peeking here and there, but so far no luck.

Finally I spot the back of a dark-haired woman engrossed in a conversation with a conductor. I look more closely and see that she's holding a blonde toddler by the hand. I dart towards them, as they obviously can't see me.

I am still a bit away from them when James turns around and suddenly pulls at Louisa's hand, pointing straight towards me. Louisa looks at me, waves at me, then talks a bit more to the conductor, nods her head, while James is already tugging heavily at her arm in my direction. I am glad that I am even more interesting than the trains.

They are coming towards, me and I speed up. I want to reach them as soon as possible, especially as Louisa has to handle her trolley case, a bag and our son.

James is pulling more and more at Louisa's hand, but she holds him firmly until he is just a few feet away. Then she lets him go and he runs towards me with his tiny feet, stumbling forwards with open arms.

Coming home was never so good and for a moment, I even forget the trouble with my lost luggage.

I squat down to welcome my son with open arms. He slings his little arms around my neck and I pick him up and hold him. His hair is brushing against my cheek and he feels warm. Considering it is way past his bedtime, he still looks very active and doesn't appear to be tired.

He adjusts himself to look at me.

"You're not going away again, Daddy?"

I hug him and whisper into his ear. "We're all going away now. Do you like the coast?"

His brow furrows. We hadn't been to the coast really I realise, so it's hard for him to answer that.

"You'll see, James. Maybe you'll like it. A bit like in Australia last year, remember – when we took the long flight?"

I can see that he is struggling, and probably for a three year old the question is as hard to answer as if I had been asked what I had for lunch three years ago.

"Just wait and see, James. First we have to take the train." His face brightens up.

"Cool."

"James!" I scold him. I don't like him using those words.

"Good." He meekly adds. Louisa stands next to me and grins.

Louisa had caught up with our son soon after he had thrown himself into my arms and had greeted me with a peck on the cheek while I was holding James.

After all the pondering I did during the week, I realise what a miraculous gift this is. Four years ago a scene like this would have been unthinkable for me. It simply wasn't in my plans. Now there are two people eagerly waiting for me when I am away, maybe even missing me. I hug my son even closer and return the peck on the cheek. Louisa looks at me puzzled. While I have grown used to her showing small signs of affection in public, I never really practised it myself.

I suddenly remember that street in Portwenn years ago. I see Louisa coming towards me on her bike and stopping right by me, thanking me for helping her with her diarrhoea. It had been my job then, nothing more. Before riding off, she leaned towards me and gave me a peck on the cheek. Her first one. It was our second sober kiss, and my heart missed a beat and I was unable to move. It was strange then to receive signs of affection in public.

Now Louisa's peck on the cheek feels normal, maybe too normal so that I don't really appreciate it enough anymore.

"Martin?"

"I missed you."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"You're really acting odd."

I try to hug Louisa with my free arm and she shortly hugs me back.

"Definitely acting odd." She confirms when she breaks away.

I clear my throat and try to get on to safer ground.

"Did you get some things for me?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Martin, but the last shop had closed by 10pm. There was no chance to get anything at all. You'll have to wait for the morning, I'm afraid."

I put James down and groan.

"Really, that is…!" I start to rant, while Louisa is just pointing with her eyes towards our son and whispers. "_James."_

"RIGHT!" I say a bit miffed.

"I really tried," Louisa adds, "didn't the shops at Heathrow have things?"

"HOW," I start shouting, but remembering James I lower my voice, "could I have possibly bought anything when the stupid attempts to regain my luggage used up so much time that I almost missed the train! I just made it, running after the train like an idiot!"

"That bad?"

"_No, of course I enjoyed the little exercise_. What do you think?"

"No need to take it out on me."

"I'm not!"

"Well."

"But how would _you_ feel?"

"I guess there is no other way than to buy something tomorrow first thing. There must be a shop, wherever we go."

"Looking like a tramp after more than 24 h of travelling."

"You're looking fine. Besides, no one knows you there."

I grunt in response, as I still don't want to reveal that they know me darn well there and that the last thing I need is more ridicule from them.

"So where are we going?" Louisa asks, trying hard to make it sound casually.

"To the coast."

"England is an island, so there's no place further away from the sea than 70 miles. Not very precise information."

I look at the clock.

"We won't be going anywhere and you'll never find out if we don't hurry. The train leaves in a few minutes."

I take her trolley case and carry James, while Louisa grabs her bag and follows me. I am just glad that I have the confirmation of the online booking on my smart phone.

I know exactly which platform we have to be on and a quick look at the announcement tells me, that there haven't been any changes nor is any delay to be expected.

While we rush past several trains, James keeps telling me where they came from and where they are going.

"How do you know?"

"Mummy asked those nice men with the funny hats."

I turn towards Louisa. "You didn't go there and disturb them?"

"I didn't _disturb _them, but how could I find out otherwise."

"Looking at the signs, the announcements, the schedule – how do _I_ know!"

"They didn't mind."

"I suppose it is not their core duty to answer questions of toddlers. They have a job to do."

"Ah, stop it! James has to learn to ask questions to find out about things. Mostly people are quite good about it."

I grunt.

"If you ask nicely." Louisa adds tongue-in-cheek.

I try not to pay too much attention. Sometimes I disapprove of Louisa's habit of chatting away with literally everybody, not even considering that they might have something better to do, not paying attention if it is worth the effort. She obviously is bound to teach James to be _open_ with people. I suppose I will never be able to stop her completely, maybe just adding a bit of caution to his mind.

I am spared any further discussions as we reach the right platform and the train is already waiting.

"Here we are. Let's find our cabins."

"Martin?"

_To be continued…_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I practically push Louisa into the train. As soon as she realised we're taking the Night Riviera Sleeper, she was petrified. I think she knows our destination now.

As soon as I manoeuvred my family into the right compartment, the automatic doors close and almost immediately afterwards, the train starts to move. I still have James on my arm, Louisa's trolley case in tow and I'm shepherding Louisa through the aisle, constantly checking the cabin numbers.

"Here." I finally declare.

Louisa keeps stumbling forwards, so I address her again.

"Louisa! This is one of our cabins." Unfortunately, the sleeping cabins are just for one person, so we have three adjoining cabins in total. One look into one of the cabins reveals the reason for the single-person-strategy – they are tiny.

I take Louisa by the arm and pull her into the first of our cabins.

I take a deep breath, put James down and sit down on the bed. It's the first quiet moment since I left the plane.

"Martin?" Well, maybe the quietude won't last long. "Where _exactly_ are we going?" Louisa's voice is louder than normal, sharp, her accent very pronounced and her whole demeanour is pure accusation.

"The west coast." I answer correctly but as vaguely as I can.

"I _do_ know that. I also know this train, although I always took it during the day and never first class, of course. But also for the second class, the train stopped at Bodmin Parkway. We're not by any chance going to…" Louisa stops mid-sentence. A habit I can't stand.

"Would there be anything wrong with that?" I ask innocently, while James is staring out of the window, pressing his nose against the glass, although it is beyond me what he hopes to see when it is pitch-dark out there.

"I'd say quite a lot!" Louisa is getting louder. She swirls around to shut the door to the aisle, then back to face me, arms akimbo. "Do you think you have a right…."

"…to book a train to Cornwall, yes!"

"It's not just Cornwall, is it?! You thought….without even asking…"

"I tried to tell you!"

"Oh, really? When? I can't remember you saying anything about it when I phoned you."

"Before I went to the conference, I tried to talk to you about it then."

"So that's how it is? You booked the train ages ago and then you call me in the middle of the night. What for? To deceive me? But then, why are you telling me now? Hmmm?"

I know that her _'__hmnmm__'_ is a clear warning sign.

"Louisa, please calm down. Yes, you're right, we're going to Portwenn…"

"Bastard!"

"Please, Louisa – James." I quickly look towards our son who looks at us puzzled and timid. He hasn't witnessed any rows between us so far and I would be glad to keep it that way, as far as it is still possible.

Louisa grabs James by the hand and hisses towards me. "Right you are." She walks with him towards the next compartment, while James is unsure if he shall follow her or stay with me. At the door Louisa adds through gritted teeth: "As always."

I get up to follow them. It is time to bring James to bed. I was looking forward to this since my first night in America. I reach the door at the same moment when Louisa slams it shut. I try to open it, but obviously she has locked it from inside.

From the other side I hear Louisa argue with James.

"But Dad promised me on the phone to read me a bedtime story!"

"Shush, James. He's been travelling all day. He needs some rest. He needs to get his thoughts back on the right track."

"But Mummy!"

I like to shout through the closed door that I would love to read any story to him he wants to hear, that I can never be too tired for his bedtime story. That nothing could keep me away from keeping my promise to him.

But this would make Louisa's position towards James more difficult, and it would probably do James no good either to realise that Louisa is keeping me from him in purpose.

So for the sake of my son I keep quiet, just listening to the sounds of my family from the other side of the door.

It hurts more than I can say. I was always an outsider. I always stood by watching others enjoying their lives. I learned to live with that.

But this is my family. This is not some bloody bully in boarding school. This is not some wisecrack studying how to get into the prof's good book. This is not some careerist mistaking the operating theatre for a stage.

This is my son, who wants me at his side. This is Louisa, who doesn't let me.

"Quiet, James." I hear her determined voice. "It's late."

Then I hear nothing. They are probably in the third compartment, and maybe Louisa has shut that door, too. Or maybe they are just not talking right now.

I press my ear against the door to catch any sound, but there is nothing. At least I would love to hear her reading to James, hear her sing, maybe even hear his tiny "Good Night.", even when it is not directed to me.

It seems that I am not even allowed to that.

I vaguely register some shuffling and clicking sounds, but can't make out if they come from the movement of the train or from Louisa's compartment.

Suddenly, the door slams against my ear with some force.

"Ouch!" I stumble backwards, holding my ear, which hurts.

The door opens and Louisa rushes in, realising the situation and giving me a scrutinizing look.

"Did you get everything or shall we start from the beginning?" She shoots at me. "Really, somehow I expected better of you than to eavesdrop. Come to think of it…."

"Louisa.." I try to explain, to get her to see my point, but she signals with her hand that I have to shut up. As the doors to James' cabin are open, I don't want to risk a confrontation.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I just forgot our bags in all this…" Louisa waves her hand energetically in the air, "…this…. kerfuffle…"

She looks around for her trolley case and James' bag. They are standing behind me and my first impulse is to turn around to give it to her. Then I realise that this is my chance. If I can make it to James' bedside, she won't throw me out. I hope. At least I do think she'd realise how distressed James would be and doesn't want to expose him to a scene like that.

So, instead of helping her, I try to block the way even more, without being too obvious about it, so that Louisa has to go around me to get her luggage.

I use the cleared way to slip into Louisa's cabin, and then straight to my son's bedside.

James is sitting on his bed, dangling his feet. His face lights up when he sees me. I sit down on his bed.

He shifts uncomfortably on the bed, before asking the all important question.

"Will you read my bedtime story?"

"I promised you I would."

"Mum says you're too tired. I mean…you don't have to…if you are…I…"

"Shhhh." I stroke his hair. "First I'll get you into your pyjamas, then you give me the book you want to have read to you. Did you brush your teeth?"

"I did that at home, before we left."

"And?"

"No, Daddy, we didn't eat anything afterwards."

I shuffle his hair. "That's good, James. Very good."

Louisa comes in now with James' bag. If looks could kill, I would drop dead immediately. I try to ignore it. I don't think I can solve this tonight. Louisa is too upset. I am too tired. Not a good combination.

Right now I am just glad that I made it to my son's bedside.

I bend down to open the bag and get James' nightclothes. Louisa bends down, too, and whispers to me.

"That was a dirty trick. Another one. I just tell you, as soon as James is asleep, you get out of here – Bastard!"

I just nod as I don't trust my voice to stay quiet. I don't want a scene in front of our son. I try to concentrate on the bedtime routine. After all, I was looking forward to it and it was hard earned.

I get his things and help him to get dressed for the night.

"So, what story do you want to hear?" I ask him as I tug him under the blanket. He reaches down to his little rucksack, where all his keepsakes are. Not too heavy on his back to cause any damage, but at least he's got the feeling of being responsible for his things. He fingers a bit until he has found the book he was looking for.

He puts a tiny book into my hand, and I smile as I thought that this would be the one he'd chose. I never understood the appeal of it, but as we are on a train I would have guessed that James chose the one with the blue train on the cover. Louisa thinks it is alright that our son grows up believing that an engine can have feelings and a desire for adventures. I don't see any use in that but can't prove that it will be of any harm. I did some research, but there seem to be no studies around analysing the effect this kind of stories having on a child's mind. So I comply, especially as James is absolutely mad about this train.

I start reading, relieved that I could keep my promise and have the benefit of this familiarity I missed so much. However, the pleasure is not undisturbed, as I can feel Louisa and her rage just next to me.

Unfortunately, the story has to end. Quite too soon for my liking, but due to the late hour, James is fast asleep by now. Nevertheless I place a kiss onto his forehead and whisper "Good Night". Drowsily my son utters some noises which can be interpreted as "Night", too, with a lot of goodwill.

Louisa is glaring at me, and I know that this is the cue to retreat.

"Good night. Please remember that the train arrives at 6:20."

"Bastard."

_To be continued…_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I sit down on my bed wearily. This hasn't gone down well. Maybe this idea was totally stupid and I've really risked our relationship with my honestly well-intended plans.

"_Well-meaning_." The expression sounds in my ears as I remember that night over two-and-a-half bottles of wine. It was the only positive trait she saw in me then. Does she still see it, or has the _Bastard_ won over?

I bury my head in my hands.

I need to sleep. I haven't been to bed for longer than I like to remember. I am tired and I could swear that I can even feel it in my bones, but I'm not sure if the exhaustion I feel is down to the lack of sleep or some deeper worries.

I'm far from being convinced now that my conclusions I came to during my stay in the States have been correct. My eyes are stinging and I'm developing a distinct ache behind my left temple. I rub the place, massaging it to increase the blood flow.

Nothing has gone to plan since I'm back on English ground. It seems as soon as I am just considering going back to the place of my purgatory, everything spells disaster.

I remove my coat. It has to last for two days. Better hang it up neatly to avoid it getting crumpled at the first night.

I'm not sure what to do with the trousers and the shirt. It doesn't feel right to sleep only in my underwear in a train. In case of any event, it might be embarrassing. However, it wouldn't be reasonable to sleep fully dressed, either, as the clothes then really look rotten, and I have nothing to change into tomorrow morning. I also have no pyjamas.

With a sigh I unbutton my shirt and try to store it as neatly as possible. Then I take off my trousers and place them on the hanger.

I lie back on this tiny bed and stare at the ceiling. I switch off the light and listen to the sound of the train.

I was hoping that the monotone rattling of the train would have soothed me to sleep, but I keep staring. And brooding.

Did I really go a step too far in planning this weekend trip? It's not that I made a life-changing decision. I leave that to Louisa, if she chooses to. I also wouldn't have taken this step if I had been able to talk to her about it, but she shut down whenever I tried to speak with her about Portwenn. She can't live in denial. It's not healthy.

Or should I have told her? But then, we would have had the row earlier and she wouldn't have turned up, probably, and we still hadn't gone anywhere. And if she'd find out what I know afterwards, and found out that I knew, she'd probably be mad at me, too.

I ran my hand over my temples. It's pounding there, but I don't even have my paracetamol on me. Maybe Louisa has some, but I don't dare to ask her. I guess I'll have to go to Mrs. Tishell tomorrow to get some.

Gawd, as I think of the fuss she's likely to make over seeing me in her chemist's again, I shudder. Her droopy eyes, her constant invitations to tea and disgusting cakes. She never realised that not in a million years I would have accepted her annoying invitations. The sugary looks would have been even more nauseating than her sugar-ridden cakes. Thinking back, she might have been hoping for other afternoon delights, too.

I feel sick, and maybe it will be easier to survive the headaches tomorrow than a visit to the pharmacy.

I guess Louisa has no idea what I am willing to go through this weekend just for her sake. She doesn't seem to realise that we are only going there because it is the right thing for _her_. Does she really think that I might be missing the village of the damned? She must know me better by now.

It looks as if a very unpleasant weekend lies ahead of me. I don't want to start to imagine the reaction of the villagers seeing us back in the village. Aunt Ruth will be all high and mighty because she told me so. She always had a way of trying to outdo everyone. She can't stand to be wrong. I remember the first time I beat her in chess. She accused me of cheating. I've never cheated in my whole life. I had practised hard to finally being able to beat her, as her analytic mind made her a strong opponent. It took me months of hard work. And then there it was – my moment of triumph! Turned into a nasty accusation of being a cheat and when my father picked up part of her chastising me, I was also called a liar and dismissed in shame.

Why am I thinking about this now? I haven't remembered it in years, no, decades.

Maybe it is close to my situation now. It rings true emotionally. I worked hard to come to the decision that it is the best thing for Louisa that we come to Portwenn this weekend. I put lots of thought and consideration into it. Maybe I was even proud that I managed to get my own wishes out of sight for a moment to see Louisa's needs, and I thought I knew what they were. And then, when the moment came, I was accused of deceiving her and being a selfish, controlling bastard.

Why am I always coming to this point? I only mean well. I know, people don't see it, but I had hoped that Louisa had learned to recognise this by now. Does she really think she's living with such an egotistic arsehole? Why is she staying with me then?

I roll to my side and by pure habit, I sling my arm over, just realising at the last moment that there is no Louisa where it can rest upon. Frustrated I roll onto my back again.

Right. I knew that we wouldn't be able to sleep in the same bed tonight. I knew that the cabins were only designed for one person. However, I had hoped that the door would be open, that we would have talked, that I wouldn't have had to sneak my way into reading to James.

What was she thinking, anyway? He is my son as well as hers. I know, legally it makes a hell of a difference, as we are not married, and so my rights are limited. Maybe that's why she always refused my proposals. To stay in control. And control she has.

I think she has the stronger position as I need this relationship more than she does. She could have everyone she wants to have. I even think she really doesn't need anyone. She can manage quite well on her own. She has her social circle to provide her with the stability she needs, and she can chose the closeness she is offering, adjusting it to the needed level. She is quite independent and can stand on her own.

If I lose this, I will end my days lonely. I know I will never bond with anyone else even remotely like I have bonded with Louisa. It takes ages for me to trust myself and the partner enough to be able to get on amiable terms with anyone. Besides, Louisa is the closest I came across to the woman I dreamt about since I started to dream about the opposite sex. She has all the traits I value – she is compassionate, caring, optimistic, strong, independent, quite bright, a good mother and she can take the lead. She has enough of a sense of humour to put up with my little quirks.

What's more, I could never deceive her. Even if she'd made it clear that in the long run we won't have a future together, it would feel wrong to be with someone else. She is my woman. _The_ woman.

I have to stop this. I'm getting all worked up over this row. It is no more than this. Yet.

There is also James, and Louisa knows as well as I do that we both have our responsibilities as a parent. Maybe if Louisa calms down and stops fuming she will come to see the true purpose of this journey. Maybe.

At least I can hope.

I'm lying in the dark and stare at the ceiling. There is a dim light coming from the direction of the door to mark the emergency exits. Otherwise it's dark and the rattling of the train is the only sound I hear. I have no clue what time it is. I have no clue where we are exactly.

Over the rattling I hear a sharp metallic sound. Then the door opens.

_To be continued…_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"You can't sleep either." Louisa doesn't ask, she just states the fact.

I sit up quickly and turn towards the light switch.

"Don't turn on the light." She orders me.

I withdraw my hand but don't lie down but sit on the bed, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about being in my underwear only. I mean, Louisa has seen me like this countless times, but it is different when you're having a row. I feel defenceless. Vulnerable. Without protection.

Louisa sits down next to me in her pyjamas but leaving some space between us.

We are both silent, each looking in front of us, neither saying a word. The atmosphere is very tense indeed. I can't remember when we've been on such bad terms since…well, since James' birth, really.

I feel a lump in my stomach and I'm actually feeling nauseous. I don't know if Louisa feels the same, but the sound of her voice and the fact that she wants the lights out indicates that she is not happy about the situation either.

"Why?" Louisa asks quietly into the silence.

"You can't run away forever."

"I'm not running."

"Then hiding."

"I'm not."

"If you had a healthy relationship with your village…"

"There's nothing unhealthy about it! It is natural, Martin. Normal. Ah, why am I talking about it? You won't understand. You simply don't know how it is…"

"I don't."

I really don't know how it is to feel at home in a place, so much at home that it makes you sick to be away from it. That you can be a hundred miles away but still be connected to the place and the people. I've never had a home like that. I thought London was my home. When I was in Portwenn, London was the place where I wanted to be.

But was it really London, or was it the post at Imperial? I suppose if there'd be a leading hospital in Liverpool, Manchester or Newcastle that wanted me as a top surgeon, with an inspirational research program, I would have gone there. It wasn't really London I needed. It was the job.

I also prefer urban areas to the countryside – they are more organised, no one expects you to be everybody's friend, no one expects you to like the place where you live. You have good infrastructure, cultural institutions of top quality, ample supplies of all goods and services you can think of.

When I was at the conference, I ached to come home. Again, it wasn't London I was missing, but that's where Louisa and James were and I wanted to be with them. No matter where.

"So you think it's OK? You probably even think you're doing me a favour?"

"I do."

"No, Martin." Louisa starts sniffing. I put my hand on her back, but she shrugs it off. "Didn't I make it clear that I didn't want to hear or see anything about Portwenn?"

"Abundantly clear."

"So you chose to ignore it."

"It's no good to live in denial."

"And as an expert, you do know that."

"Yes."

"_Mr. Almighty _and _Know-It-All_." She bitterly adds.

"No, but my haemophobia only became better when I started using the right name for it, admitted to it and what caused it. Hiding from it only made it worse."

"Are you saying I'm phobic!" she angrily shouts.

"James." I state, nodding to the open door, afraid her shouting might wake him.

"Right." She hisses. "But I am _not_ phobic!"

"Of course you're not. Just…." I am looking for the right word, and after a moment I think I know it. "…unhappy."

"And that's a medical condition? Perhaps due to hormonal imbalances?"

"No, it's not. But maybe something can be done about it."

"What do you hope to achieve with this stupid trip? Showing me what a great, posh life you're offering me in London? Are you hoping that I am disillusioned by visiting Portwenn again? That I will see the villagers in a different light now, now that I've shared your world for three years? Martin, I won't. All this…money…doesn't impress me. You can't buy friendship."

"You have friends in London."

Louisa makes a disapproving sound.

"I still think you have to face your memories."

"Oh, great. Thanks for that. You knew I didn't want to go."

"You didn't even want to talk."

"So you forced me."

"I did not."

"Have you any idea why I didn't want to visit Portwenn?"

"I guess I have an inkling."

"No, Martin, you have _no idea_ how hard it is to say goodbye. How much it hurts to leave everything behind that is your home to go to London." Louisa is silently crying now, and I am torn between the wish to comfort her and respecting her wish that I shall keep away from physical contact.

"Louisa, look, I don't ask…"

"Yeah, Martin. That's just the problem. You didn't."

"No…I…"

She gets up and storms into her cabin. I follow her.

Before she disappears for the night, I just have to ask one question.

"Louisa, I've got a headache."

"What do you want?! Sympathy!" She shouts at me and slams the door shut.

"No, paracetamol." I whisper, knowing well that she probably can't hear me anymore.

On the other side I can hear that James has woken up. I hear Louisa going to him to put him back to sleep.

I rest my head against the door.

We're alone again – me and my headache.

_To be continued…_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

My mobile alarm rings at 5:45. I switch it off immediately, as I didn't really sleep at all. I can't when there is a row going on between us. Or maybe it was simply the headache.

I get up and look at my clothes. I sigh. I hate the idea of getting into my suit without having had a shower while still in the underwear I've been sleeping in. Rubbing my chin doesn't make me any more confident about the day. In lack of any alternative I have to endure it. At least I should be able to take a shower at the farm. I just hope Aunt Ruth has sensible shower gel.

I try to straighten my clothes as much as I can so that not too many wrinkles are obvious and get dressed.

I use the little cubicle down the aisle to freshen up. I can't even brush my teeth. This is indeed a rotten morning. I try to do the best I can in swishing the water through my teeth. I am far from being happy with the result, but I can't think of anything more that I can do.

So I retreat to my cabin. It's about 6am now and as I don't hear any noises from the adjacent cabin I knock at Louisa's door. It's time to get ready.

"Yeah!" She shouts from the other side immediately.

"It's 6am."

"I'm able to read the clock, thanks a lot."

It is more than obvious that she is more than just slightly angry with me. This day is getting better and better. And it has only just began.

"We have to get ready."

"Never thought it possible."

"Just saying."

"I'm working on it, but do you have any idea how hard it is to get James going this time of day?"

"Can I help?"

"Thanks a lot. I'm still trying to digest your last helpful action."

"At least I can get James dressed."

"We're working on it. And don't worry, we won't jeopardise your precious schedule."

"I'm ready."

"Yeah, we're not. So don't rush."

"I'm not. I just mean, I could help." What I really mean is that I would love to help, that I want to get James dressed.

"There's just one thing that you could do to help!"

"Yeah?"

"SHUT UP!"

I do. I don't see any way in solving this situation when a door is between us. Actually, I'm dreading the moment when the door opens. Louisa is obviously fuming.

I go into the aisle and stare out of the window. I have absolutely nothing to do. I can't even pack a case. Louisa has all the work to do, and I feel guilty.

In front of the window the well known Cornish landscape rushes past. I don't want to come back. It's not like it's like when I was little and Auntie Joan would pick me up for long looked forward holidays.

This county has been my place of comfort and a purgatory. We will see what it has in store for me now.

I hear Louisa open her cabin door right now behind me and struggling with a trolley case, a bag and a toddler. I walk towards her and when she looks up at me, I've got a feeling that all hell might break loose soon.

"Good morning." I utter and try to pat James' head, as I usually do, but Louisa shields him with her body. I am frustrated. I'm not contagious.

"Mornin' Dad!" James greets me friendly, but even he is a bit cautious, as Louisa's actions puzzle him obviously. I can't blame him. They puzzle me, too.

Louisa doesn't react at all, only shoots looks at me that could kill in between trying to get all of the luggage out of the cabin.

I reach towards the handle of the trolley case.

"Let me help."

Louisa pulls vigorously at the case, trying to get it free, as it has got stuck in the doorframe somehow.

"_I_ can handle it." She snarls.

"There is really no need for you to carry the entire set of luggage, while I…"

"Yeah, it's not as if you had anything to carry, is it?" She definitely smirks at me.

There are traits in Louisa that I find hard to tolerate and this is exactly one of them. I can endure by now the times when she is teasing me. She loves doing that. Especially when I don't _get it_ immediately and she can wind me up. However, these occasions usually ends with her laughing it off and consoling me for the tough time she's given me.

This time is different. It's one of the malicious moments when she makes fun at my expense. This is vile, and it's really unworthy of her.

The first time I can remember her doing this was way back when she gossiped with Mylow's sister about my blood thing, laughing about some nasty remark of my incapability. There is nothing redeeming in that and I curse myself that I can't steel myself against it. If I am victim to such foul play I still feel like eight years old.

Maybe I am thin-skinned in that respect. I had more than enough of it in my lifetime. I certainly don't need any more of it from my family.

I straighten up and just confirm her astute observation. "No."

Then I grab the bag she had placed on the floor to struggle with the trolley case more successfully.

Louisa looks up at me and bites her lower lip. Obviously she is mixed up, otherwise she wouldn't be sporting this habit. Maybe she even realised that she had gone a bit too far.

As the bag had blocked the way between James and me, and while Louisa pays full attention to her luggage, James comes towards me and tugs at my trouser leg.

I know the secret signs and know what he wants.

I put the bag down again and lift my son up. Holding him, I give him a peck on the cheek.

"Ugh, that tickles!" James exclaims and withdraws.

I rub my chin with my free hand.

"Sorry, I couldn't shave this morning because my luggage is gone."

James reaches over and runs his hand over my stubble.

"Gross." He says with gusto. "And you've got to do that every morning?"

"Normally twice a day."

"Otherwise you're prickly like…like a hedgehog?"

"Careful." I scold him, but without venom. I can't deny that he is right that my facial hair need some looking after.

"I still love you." He exclaims and hugs my neck tightly. I pat his back and whisper to him that it is very generous of him.

He giggles. I realise that this is something new in my life – people actually genuinely laughing. I never realised it consciously before. Louisa laughs a lot, well, at least she used to do that, and when she does, it seems genuine and heartfelt. It's not like the artificial demonstrations of high spirits some people sport because they think they have to.

Now James. Since very early on he smiled at most people and he likes to laugh, especially when Louisa is fooling around with him. I love observing these two in their joyous games.

I can't remember any laughter around the house when I was growing up. Mum and Dad certainly were above those common notions. They were taking themselves far too seriously to genuinely laugh, although I certainly can't say anything about her fancy parties or how Dad behaved on his philandering excursions.

At boarding school they also encouraged us not to behave so childishly. We were educated to become trustworthy Gentlemen in higher positions. Fooling around would certainly not encourage any trust that anyone would have in us.

I can't even remember Joan and Phil laughing a lot. They were nice and pleasant and seemed somehow content, but I can't really remember them laughing out loud or giggling. Maybe their life was too tough to allow any fooling around.

And now here I am, grumpy as I am, with a wife and a kid who like to laugh and whom I like watching laughing.

Of course, the best moment I've had since I've been on English ground again comes to a sudden halt, and so does the train.

Louisa squeezes past us, her trolley case is energetically following her.

"We've got to get out. So leave your love declarations for later." She grumbles. "Men!"

I pick up the bag and still carrying James, I follow her.

_To be continued…_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Finally I'm back on Cornish soil. Everything here is calmer, slower, quirkier, older, but when I breathe in I can also notice that the air is a lot cleaner than everything I've breathed in a long time. The price you have to pay for the clean air, however, is that there are hardly any job opportunities. Big business always means pollution, and no pollution means no business.

I look around. I remember my previous encounters and arrivals on this station. Since I am grown up, arrivals were mostly awkward.

When I was working here, I always hated to come back from my occasional visits to London. London, where I should have been but have failed to meet the high standards that a London job requires. I was coming back to my exile.

During my student years I only came back when I wanted to introduce my then-fiancée to my aunt. Edith was complaining the whole time asking why I was dragging her into these backwaters and that I should finally grow up and emancipate myself from those hindering family bonds. Aunt Joan immediately disliked Edith and had no problem showing it in her Ellingham way. It was a horrible stay.

My last pleasant memories arriving here date back to when I would have been eleven years old, arriving for the last time for my summer holidays at the farm. I had been excited during the whole train ride and had been eagerly looking for my aunt the moment I came out of the train.

I'm looking out for a different aunt now.

Louisa is rushing towards the exit.

"Wait. I haven't seen her yet?" I try to slow her down.

"What? Who? I thought we should find a taxi."

"Ruth promised to pick us up. Can you see her?"

Louisa stops abruptly and slowly – very slowly – turns around to face me, and I know that this isn't a good sign at all. I hate Louisa's temperamental outburst, but when she grows quiet, it really becomes dangerous.

She looks at me, straight at me, looks me full in the eye for a long time. I gulp and fear the worst. I hug James tightly. He is the only thing that can save me from a really nasty scene.

In a low voice, slightly shaking, but very pronounced, she addresses me.

"Are you saying she knows I'm coming and I didn't? You told her before you told me?"

"I needed someone to pick us up, so naturally…"

Louder now she interrupts me, still trying hard to compose herself enough not to yell at me. "So who else knows we're coming? You haven't informed by any chance the whole village and only forgot to tell me about it? Hmmm?"

"Don't be silly," I loudly retort, "why would I want the village to know?"

"Or me, come to think of it. Maybe because I'm still the little inbred villager for you, hm? Not sophisticated enough to be talked to, hm? After all, I do not own a medical degree, so why bother consulting me about anything, hm?"

"Rubbish! What has medicine got to do with this?"

"Martin, you only take people seriously when they are from your own profession. The rest are just…just…second-class citizens for you. Including me."

"Now you are being ridiculous!" I answer back more loudly than I wanted to. While James is looking timidly at me, but still clings onto me, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"I thought I'd recognised the yell." Aunt Ruth chose exactly this moment to turn up. "I thought I'd just follow the argument, and I would surely find you."

"It's not as if we are hard to miss on this empty platform. Where have you been? You're ten minutes late?"

"Well, as you know, in the country we get up with the chickens, but chicken aren't what they used to be."

"You overslept."

"That's another way of putting it." My aunt was never one for emotional outburst, well, except for the one occasion when I could diffuse her worries about Lupus, and if she is happy to see us now she has a funny way of showing it.

"You look awful. Married life doesn't seem to suit you."

"We're not married." I state.

"A mistake I didn't make." Louisa grumbles and I look at her worriedly. "So let's get going. It won't get any better standing here."

Louisa picks up her bag, which I had dropped during our argument, and looks towards my aunt with fury in her eyes.

"Don't look daggers at me. I told him it was a stupid idea." Aunt Ruth calmly declares, not at all impressed by Louisa's foul mood. "You know how he is. You know – about the good advice and the deaf ears?"

"You can say that again." Louisa keeps grumbling. "_Big_ deaf ears."

By now, I just want to get away, although I doubt that it will be any better when we're at the farm. At least, I can take a shower there, which would be some improvement.

I carry our son to the car, while Louisa is making space. My aunt turns to me and nods in my direction.

"Can he walk?"

"Who?"

"Him." This time she definitely nods towards James.

"_He_ has a name and _he_ can walk just fine."

"So why isn't _James_ walking and you're carrying him around like a sack of potatoes?"

"It's quicker and he's tired."

"If you keep doing that for the next fifteen years, you'll be in trouble. Here we are. Taxi to Portwenn."

Ruth opens the car. While I try to secure James into the backseat as safely as I can without a child seat, Louisa bends down and hisses into my ear. "How can you let your aunt talk about James that way? Do something!"

"But I did."

"No, you bloody well didn't!"

"I didn't hear _you _say anything, for that matter."

"She's _your_ aunt."

"I'm not responsible for my aunt's opinions."

"You have to decide which side you're on." I finally managed to get James reasonably well into the safety belt. "I'll sit in the back with him." Louisa declares and pushes me with her elbow to make way.

I stow away Louisa's and James' luggage into the boot and sit next to my aunt. She starts the motor and we're off towards the farm. A few minutes pass, during which Ruth peeks over at me occasionally.

"The last attempt?"

"What?"

"For reconciliation?"

"Rubbish."

"Well, I wouldn't need my psychological degree to make the connection between your state and the state of your affairs. When a man stops shaving, the relationship is on its last leg."

"The airline lost my luggage and our relationship is just fine." I declare to end this unpleasant debate.

"In your dreams." I hear Louisa mutter.

Ruth is but too glad to pick it up, nods towards the backseats and triumphantly declares: "Seems to be a matter of opinion."

"Yeah, but not yours."

"Thank you very much. I could say '_I told you'_, but that's too cheap."

"Then don't." I am on the verge of losing my patience. It is really none of my aunt's business and our state of affairs is certainly no subject for idle chit-chat.

"However, I must grant you that the two of you lasted longer than I thought you would. I wouldn't have given you one year, to be honest. I was really almost willing to revise my opinion. _Almost_."

"You seem to have a lot of confidence in us."

"It just takes one look to see that you have nothing in common – except for the child."

"James." Louisa chimes in from behind. "The child has a name, and that is James."

"OK, James. Not that you have any other children to mistake him for, have you? I wonder why that is when you have a blissfully happy relationship. However, you managed to stay together for the child's sake quite a long time and most of the times you even gave the impression of a reasonable happy couple." Ruth grows silent for a moment to concentrate on turning around a narrow corner. "As far as couples can be happy, that is." She concludes when the road is straight again.

"And you are an expert on this." I sarcastically add.

"Well, expert enough to have told you before you even moved to London." She energetically pulls at the wheel to get around the next bend just in time. Her way of driving is frightening. "I'm just glad that I didn't have to revise my opinion. I hate being wrong."

It's Louisa's time to add fuel to the flames. "Must be an Ellingham thing."

"Yes, didn't you know?" Ruth snaps back, unimpressed. "You should have taken your time to get to know the man before you get yourself pregnant."

"STOP…" I yell, and immediately try to lower my voice, "…it. We haven't come down here for couple therapy. I just thought we could stay at your place, without any lectures. Maybe you'd better bring us to a hotel."

"You're joking. I instructed Al to prepare three rooms. I already guessed you might want separate accommodation and you were just too proud to admit to it."

My face falls as the last thing I want are separate beds, but I'm not sure if Louisa feels the same, and the fact that she keeps quiet isn't helping much with my doubts.

Ruth pulls into the farm yard.

"Besides we're already here. I guess Al has prepared breakfast. You must be starving after the long journey, and bickering on an empty stomach is never good."

"We are _not _here for bickering!" I declare.

"In that case, you improvised brilliantly. In any case, breakfast can't do any harm."

_To be continued…_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Breakfast would be brilliant." Louisa declares, getting out of the car.

I get out of the car, too, and help James out of the backseat.

"Would it be possible for me to take a shower first? I've been travelling from Ithaca to here without a shower."

"That's easy to get. I suppose you know where the bathroom is. I didn't change that."

"Uhm…shower gel? Mine is on the odyssey with my lost case."

"You can use mine."

"Uhm…right…I mean, it's not by any chance…smelly?"

"Oh, you think old bats like me use lavender or wild rose? Don't worry. I don't want to smell like my own garden. And if you're at it, maybe Al can lend you his razor. You could do with a shave."

"Right."

We disappear into the house and while Louisa and James sit down for breakfast, I follow the noises from the kitchen to track down Al.

Al Large is busy preparing scrambled eggs while feeding the toaster with more bread.

"Mornin' Doc." He smiles his crooked smile at me. "Long time no see. Oops. Wait a second."

He removes some bread that had sent smoke signals to call for help. He removes the smoky toast and inspects it. "I'd better feed that to the chickens." He throws it into a separate basket on the floor.

"Sorry Doc, didn't want to poison you for being back in Cornwall."

"Actually, burned toast…"

"Yeah, I know. Unpleasant but not deadly." He cocks his head. "London doesn't seem to be very becoming. You look…"

"Yeah, I know."

"Sorry, didn't want to rub it in. Just so weird to see you in such a state."

"Al, I am not in the mood to discuss my state with anyone. I've been travelling for more than a day now, I have lost my luggage with all my things and I have a headache. So all I need is…"

"Sure, you need rest. I'll shut my mouth. Breakfast before you rest?"

"No, Al. All I need is a shower and if possible a shave."

"You can say that again."

I'm trying to keep my temper, but I can feel the growing impatience having an effect on my voice.

"I have no toiletry bag and would need a razor." I say through gritted teeth.

"That's a problem then, about the shave."

"Ruth thought I might borrow yours. You must have one, I reckon."

"Oh, right Doc." Al smacks his forehead. "Sorry, wait a minute." He fiddles around with the toast again, and waves some light brown bread before me. "We don't want that to be roasted to coal. I've got to finish this, but then you can have my shaver. No problem."

"Thanks." I utter curtly.

"Don't mention it. Breakfast's almost ready. Shall I bring it upstairs?"

"The breakfast?"

"No, the shaver, of course."

"I'll wait."

I watch Al finishing his kitchen tasks. I have to admit Ruth has got herself an efficient handyman and Al does his job with verve.

Finally, everything's cooked and he fills five plates with portions of scrambled eggs and ham and puts the toast into the toast rack.

"You're having breakfast before you go upstairs."

"No."

"But Doc, you must be starving – and this is getting cold."

"I need a shower. Now."

"Okay, okay. I just serve this and then get my things – _before_ I eat."

It is obvious that Al had worked in a restaurant before, even when it was only the nasty place owned by his useless father, as he balances the plates safely to the dining table.

It just takes a few minutes for him to reappear in the kitchen, just to rush out through the door.

Minutes later he reappears with his electric shaver and some after shave. Normally I prefer a razor blade, but beggars can't be choosers and so I take it with a sigh.

Al waves the after shave in front of me. "Hope that's OK with you. Probably not what you usually take, but that's all I've got."

"Thank you, Al. It'll have to do."

"You're always welcome. If there's anything more – you'll find me where the breakfast is."

I turn towards the stairs to get myself into a halfway decent status, but notice that the voices from the dining table are a bit heated. I heave a sigh.

Welcome to Cornwall. What a stupid idea of mine.

I find my old room, the one I was staying in since I was a boy and that will be my shelter for the next night.

I am just about to get ready for my shower, when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. A moment later my son runs into my room, completely beside himself. I quickly button up my shirt. James throws himself against my side and pulls at me.

"Now, now – what's the matter, young man?"

I squat down to get an idea what is wrong with my offspring, who has sat quietly at the kitchen table just minutes ago.

"I don't want to…" he sniffs, "don't make me do it. I can't. I really couldn't!"

"Shhh." James slings his arms around my neck, and I instinctively take him into my arms and pat his back. "What is wrong, James? What is it that you can't do?"

He cries into my neck for some time before he utters between sobs.

"Like Gavin…," Gavin is another boy from a group of children he regularly plays with, I remember, "…he…they…he had to go to a judge…and he asked him…who…who he liked better – his mum or his dad. And Gavin…he didn't know what to say…he didn't know why they asked him…and his dad…his dad had just forbidden him to watch TV so late…so he said he liked his mum better. And now…now…he isn't allowed to see his dad anymore. Well, mostly that is. Sometimes he can visit him. Not often, but sometimes. And he feels so bad about it. He misses his dad."

"And I…I simply couldn't. I mean…when they would ask me who I like better, you or mum – I couldn't answer that. And I don't want to say anything that…that…Oh Daddy!"

My son presses harder against me and I hold him as tightly as I can. I feel a lump in my throat and have to hold back my tears.

I feel incredibly sorry for my son that he witnessed enough of our row to be deeply troubled. I am also proud that he wouldn't be able to make the decision easily. I would have thought that a choice between Louisa and me would be a clear cut for everyone. I am deeply touched that quite obviously for James it isn't.

"Shhh, James. It's OK. No one will ask you anything like that."

James draws back from me to look me straight into the eye. He swallows hard and I have to summon up all my self-control not to fall apart in front of my sons eyes.

"Promise?" He asks meekly, with a tear-stricken voice.

I take him into my arms again. "I promise. Honestly. I promise."

I can promise that easily, as Louisa and I are not married, so there is no chance that James would be questioned in a divorce case. I am thankful that he didn't want any reassurance that Louisa and I will be together and we will both equally be there for him. I couldn't answer that honestly. I wish I knew that myself.

"How can you even think anything like that might happen? Just because it happened to your friend?"

"No…," James sniffs, "Aunt Ruth…she…she said that Mum and you…" I can't understand the rest as James is crying too much now. I helplessly pat his back and keep assuring him that he won't be subject to such an ordeal.

"Shhh. Your Aunt Ruth doesn't know everything."

While I had been comforting my son I had vaguely registered agitated voices downstairs. Now steps are rushing up the stairs and soon afterwards, Louisa appears in the door.

"What's wrong?" She asks nodding towards James.

"He's afraid he'll be questioned in a divorce case. What happened downstairs?"

"Ah…Ruth…She couldn't stop making clever remarks about us being just wrong for each other. As if she were an expert!"

I keep on clinging to James for dear life.

"James," Louisa shuffles his hair and he looks towards her, still clinging onto me, "just because two…adults…have an argument, that doesn't mean that they've decided not to live together anymore. Sometimes they just don't talk enough, you know. And then they sit down and talk and then it's fine."

"Really?" My eyes are on Louisa's as are James' and we both seek her assurance with the same affirmative question at the same tone.

I see relieved that this brings a smile to Louisa's face, if maybe even against her will.

She tousles James' hair. "Yes, Jamie, really."

Then she runs her hand over my hair. "Sometimes talking to each other is all that it takes."

I get up, keeping a hand on James' shoulder. "I tried. I really did."

"Well, maybe we have to try harder."

"Maybe." I gulp.

"Is this our room for the stay?" Louisa looks around.

"It's the room I always had…as a child, that is."

"Then I'd better get my bag up here."

"So you're not…" I tentatively ask, nodding towards the door as the offer for a second bedroom is still on.

"Certainly not, if only to prove Ruth wrong. Even if it kills me!" Louisa adds with gusto.

"Good. Shall I get your…"

"No, I can manage. If not, Al can help. You take your shower."

"I don't mind."

"We're fine." Louisa is putting her arm around James shoulder. "Now we're fine, aren't we? And now we're having our breakfast while daddy can finally take his shower. Then we'll get our luggage up here."

_To be continued…_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I have finished my shower and shaved, but it feels so wrong to get into my dirty clothes again but I have no other choice, so the well travelled suit with the dust and sweat of two continents is put on again.

I run my hands over my shaved chin and I feel a bit better, but the smell of Al's after shave feels wrong on me. At least Ruth had shower gel which is perfume free. If anything today, I learned to be thankful for little things.

When I come downstairs they are still assembled around the breakfast table. It seems Louisa is fending off some unwanted advice.

Everyone has finished eating, and Ruth has obviously started in on Louisa, lecturing about children's behaviour and the overestimated influence of what she calls '_traditional families_'. Since Ruth turned up for Joan's funeral, I can't shake the feeling that Ruth can't stand seeing any Ellingham succeeding in the family business.

I pat James' head and when he smiles at me with his mouth smeared with marmalade, I take a tissue and wipe his mouth. He is still a bit more timid than usual, but that's understandable with the row earlier, the interrupted night and Ruth constantly rattling on about the difficulties of partnerships of two completely different personalities and the pressure of bringing up a child.

I sit down between Louisa and James. I help myself to a piece of toast and some scrambled eggs. I prefer my eggs cooked, but as the only alternative seems to be jams and marmalade, I'd rather take a small portion of the eggs. It feels good to get something to eat and I realise that I haven't eaten anything for rather a long time, so I'm reasonably hungry.

Ignoring the battle between Ruth and Louisa, I raise my voice to be louder than both of them and ask Ruth if I can have her car for today.

"You've still not given up the stupid idea of going into town?" Ruth asks incredulously.

"Do we really have to?" Louisa looks at me with worried eyes, but if this whole stupid trip shouldn't be a complete waste of time, we really have to go.

"I at least need to go to town to buy some things," I start before taking another bite from my breakfast, "besides…"

"OK, OK, you win." Louisa sighs.

"Furthermore, I mean…we…"

"It's alright, Martin, we'll go."

"But…"

"Not another word, OK?"

I shut my mouth. I still don't understand how I shall ever be able to give Louisa full information about my intentions when she orders me to shut up whenever I try.

Maybe I could still explain to her my full intention of our visit, but if I'm honest I'm quite happy saying nothing about it and waiting for the bomb to drop.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

We have finished breakfast and fortunately I was able to keep my aunt from coming to Portwenn with us. I suppose she was a bit disappointed. It seems, there is not enough action going on in her life right now. She is used to the turmoil of a high-security prison, so even the madness of Portwennians can't impress her. Maybe she had hoped our visit would be a complete disaster and she could have some fun watching it.

This day will be difficult enough even without an audience and for once, Louisa was on my side. She objected vehemently to any company and made it abundantly clear that this is a family trip.

So I drive my aunt's Mercedes towards the village with James and Louisa on the backseat. We had discussed briefly where to leave the car, as neither Louisa nor I have a parking space in Portwenn anymore. We agreed that the best choice would be to use one of the big car parks on top of the hill, outside the village.

It is strange to stop to pay for a daytime ticket. I hear Louisa mutter _"Just like some bloody tourist."_

I look into the mirror and see her biting her lip. A clear sign of tension.

James on the other hand stares out of the window. "Wow! Look at the sea! Cool!"

His tension seems to have vanished to give place to excitement. At least one of us is enjoying this trip, it seems.

Soon we stroll downhill towards the village centre. I have to be careful not to walk too fast. Louisa holds James' hand and I walk next to them.

I never thought I would ever walk these paths again, and a slight claustrophobic feeling is creeping in. Or maybe the feeling in my stomach is due to fear as I do not know how Louisa will react to the news that will await her in the village.

Instinctively I look at my watch. It's already half past ten. Not much time to get my things and be there in time. Especially as James stops every other second to look at some animal, flower, coastline, boat, sea gull or whatever. It seems he thinks this is some sort of adventure playground.

Speaking of playgrounds. I never had known before that there was a huge one on top of the hill next to the parking place. It was practically impossible to get James past this without stopping for him to try out most of the equipment offered there.

I tried to persuade him that we could do this later, when we came back. Louisa, however, hissed that _if_ we have to make this trip, then at least James can have some fun. I couldn't argue with that. So I dutifully pushed the swings, took care that he didn't fall off the monkey bars and provided the opposite weight for the see-saws by pushing it down.

Louisa stood by, her arms wrapped around her body although it is a warm day, looking around quietly. Only when James shouted over to her, she waved or responded.

Finally I was able to negotiate with James that we could carry on after a few more turns on the slide.

When I finally tried to make him leave, he tugged at my sleeve, a sure sign that he had a question.

"Yes, James?"

"Why don't we have anything like this at home?"

"We have a playground just around the corner."

"But not one like this."

"Like what?"

"This is…bigger…not so much rubbish…and the coast!"

"More than eight million people live in London, while here there are not even a thousand."

James goes quiet and furrows his brow. "Is a million much more than a thousand?"

"A lot more, quite a lot."

"How much more?"

"Well,…" how to explain big numbers to a small child?

James tugs again at my sleeve. "How much more, Daddy?"

"Well, see…" I squat down as I usually do when I explain more complicated things to James. "you went to this theatre with Mummy last months, didn't you?"

"Yes?"

"See, and there were 500 seats in there, so the whole population of this village would fit into two of these theatres."

James obviously tries to process this information. "That's not a lot, is it?"

"No, it's one of the smaller villages, while London is the biggest city in this country."

James is quiet again. Then he says: "I think I like smaller better."

Well, that makes two.

_To be continued…_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Louisa has obviously noticed me watching the time.

"You're the typical Londoner." she scolds me "Can't you spend some time without constantly checking the speed in which it is passing. It's not as if we have to be anywhere."

I clear my throat. I could tell her the true purpose now, but in a bit more than an hour she'll find out anyway, so I stay on safer grounds.

"Aren't the shops closing soon?"

"Don't be silly. This village is a tourist trap and they hardly let the milking of day-trippers slip through their fingers. Especially not during the summer."

"Still."

"Stop worrying. We'll get you something. And even if the shops close before we've been there, I still can pull some strings. You'll get what you need."

I very much doubt that. What I need cannot be combined. I need Louisa happy and my job in London. There are not enough strings to pull to get that straight.

I am disturbed in my thoughts by a middle-aged woman who darts towards us to greet Louisa exuberantly. I've learned by now that there is only one way to survive situations like this – not to pay attention. It's not that these situations occur often in London. It is a blissfully anonymous city. However, Louisa managed even there to have a social circle too big to be completely safe anywhere. I will never understand how much women can talk when they meet when there is absolutely nothing worth discussing.

Louisa lights up like a Christmas tree and they both start talking and cooing in a completely unnatural voice that gets on my nerves.

I try to use this moment to make a mental list of all the things that need to be done today. Then I proceed to make plans of how to get the best out of this situation in case Louisa reacts to the news she is about to hear today as I expect her to. I even prepare for a possible meeting with Robert, my boss, on Monday and how to spill the beans.

Suddenly I notice that Louisa is looking expectantly at me. Has she included me in her conversation?

"Martin?"

"Huh?"

I am completely clueless about what is expected of me.

"Isn't it?" I hear Louisa ask this rhetoric question, which for a change does expect an answer. I mutter something that can pass as an approval with a lot of good-will, even if I don't have a clue to what I have just agreed.

At least it seems it has done the trick as Louisa continues chatting away and laughing with this other woman.

Meanwhile, James has looked for shelter behind me after being gawped at and inspected like some pet in a competition.

It seems he has the same wish as I have – just to get away. He tugs at my sleeve again.

"When can we go, Daddy?"

That is indeed a good question, but not one to be answered honestly.

"Your mother hasn't finished yet."

"How long will it take?"

"Shh, just wait, alright?"

"But it's boring."

"James," I need to get firm with him, even if I'm completely on his side, "we waited when you wanted to play, so now you have to wait when your mother wants to talk. It's just fair."

He harrumphs but seems to accept it.

Louisa is happily chatting away, completely unaware that my time schedule is running short.

Finally I subconsciously realise the cue that we can carry on.

"So good to have met you again, Pippa!" Louisa cheerfully exclaims.

"Yes, and maybe we'll bump into each other occasionally."

Louisa peeks towards me and then responds less enthusiastically: "I very much doubt that."

"What a shame." This other woman replies, and it obviously gets to Louisa. "Well, it was good to see you anyway. Best of luck."

This other woman trots away and Louisa turns towards us again.

"Poor Pippa." She sighs.

"Why?" I don't ask because I'm particularly interested, but because Louisa expects me to.

"Haven't you heard?"

"I…was distracted."

Louisa looks towards me with a knowing look. She knows I am generally distracted as soon as she chats away with one of her friends.

"Her husband just ran off, leaving her with the twins. Now she also seems to have some trouble with her job, although I don't really get why the school isn't able to keep her. It was a bit vague."

"Well, maybe northing's settled then."

"Let's hope so."

We had started walking downhill again and are now reaching the little general store. We are hardly in the door, when the saleswoman shouts Louisa's name.

"Louisa! We haven't seen you for ages!"

"It's a long time, isn't it? But Martin is very busy in London, and I…"

"Yes, London. And how _are_ you, dear?" She almost sounds as if I had dragged her into the dragon's den. We are not living at the South Pole, but in one of the most prestigious cities of the world.

Before I do say something dangerous, I take James by the hand and search the shelves for the products I need.

I had considered buying the optimum tooth paste and tooth brush at the pharmacy, but I'd rather settle for second best and avoid Mrs. Tishell.

I have the shopping basket in one hand and James at the other while picking up all the toiletry items I need. In between, I have to fend off James' wishes for unhealthy products and money-wasting gadgets.

In the background I keep hearing the conversation Louisa has with the woman at the counter and I have to give Louisa credit that she tries not to complain about her being in London. She really works hard to let it sound a mutual choice, although I don't think she is completely convincing.

I put my shoppings on the counter, but that doesn't prompt the woman to do her job. The shop is completely empty, so she can hardly claim that she is preoccupied with anything but snooping into our private matters. Nevertheless, completely unimpressed by me wanting to pay she keeps nattering on with Louisa. I look at my watch. It's past eleven and now I know that I have to get Louisa to the village notice board soon, otherwise this trip is completely useless. Not that this store had any underwear at all, reasonable or otherwise, but that has to wait. I have to get Louisa out of here soon and just across the street without many further disruptions.

"That's all." I say pointedly, pushing the basket a bit forward.

"Hasn't got any more patience than he used to have, has he?" The saleswoman laughs at Louisa.

"MARTIN!" She scolds me. "No not really, sorry." Louisa has again apologized for me. A habit of hers that I can't stand.

"How much is it?" I ask demonstratively.

"Well, let me see…" In a very complicated way the woman behind the counter starts to put every price into the cashing machine by hand. It seems no one here has ever heard of bar codes. Twice she has to correct herself. It seems to take ages.

Finally she can name the price and I pay, while Louisa is still chatting on. James looks up to me and rolls his eyes. I can't agree more.

"Can we go now?" I ask Louisa impatiently. Just 45 minutes to go.

"Martin, can't you be a bit more civil for once. These are my friends."

I suppress a moan. Good friends indeed. I can't remember them writing or phoning once during the last years.

It's James who saves me this time, as he urges Louisa that he needs to go to the loo. I volunteer to take him to the public facilities, so I have a good reason to excuse us. Before I go, I urge Louisa to meet us at the notice board and that she shouldn't be too long.

_To be continued…_


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

I make sure that we take some time with the business at hand. I even allow James to watch a fisherman storing away his catch of lobsters. James had never seen these animals alive before, especially not that many of them. He is absolutely fascinated.

I let him watch until the fisherman rather vigorously claims his space to work. By now, Louisa should have had enough time to tear herself away from the shop and maybe even has already read the notice I know is on the board and which is the reason why I've dragged Louisa down here.

We approach the notice board near the school and Louisa is already standing in front of it. I had made sure that we'd reach this point before noon. Louisa couldn't help but start to read the messages as I knew she would.

She gasps.

She has found what I wanted her to read.

"That's impossible! They can't do this! They don't have the right! What _are_ they thinking?!" She is in best fighting mood, as I knew she would be.

"Hm?" I try to appear uninterested.

"Have you read this?"

"I just arrived, so how could I? What is it?"

"What this is? Impertinence! That's what it is. How dare they?!"

"Who?"

"The governor's board. I simply can't believe it!"

"Sorry, you still haven't told me what's wrong."

"They're closing the school. _This _school. Don't they know it'll take a whole hour to get to and fro to Wadebridge. A whole hour of time stolen from the children. One hour less for playing. One hour less with their families. Don't they think about that at all?"

"How come?" I ask as innocently as possible.

Louisa studies the board again, reading the short note over and over as if she can't believe it. "They're having problems with the headship. For two years now they haven't found someone to take the post as head teacher. My successor was just an interim solution. She just stayed for not even a year, it seems. After that, no one was interested in the post. Now, there are some administrative deficiencies, not all regulations have been put into force, so if they don't find another head soon…" Louisa's voice trails off, she shakes her head and then pulls at my arm.

"This was a stupid idea of yours."

"What have I got to do with it?"

"Coming here, I mean. Let's go. I want to go." I hear her mutter under her breath. "I can't believe this. _My_ school. Falling into ruin. Maybe they'll turn it into a hotel or something, and the children and parents get to pay for it."

"Is it already definite?" I ask casually.

"Does it matter?"

"To you it does."

"There's nothing I could do."

"So it's not definite then?"

"They're having a meeting in…" she looks at her watch, "in about twenty minutes. They have to have a solution then or the school is finished. It's a shame. It has been such a nice school."

I stop Louisa, who tries walking away. James is tucking at my hand. I stroke his head.

"Not now, James, just a moment."

"But Daddy!"

"I'm with you in a moment, right?" James has learned that this sound of my voice means that I won't give in, so he keeps holding my hand quietly and watches the scene.

"Look, Louisa, why don't you go in there?"

"Of what use would it be? To see how the end of the school will be sealed? Sorry, but I can't stand that."

"Go in there, tell them a thing or two and do what you've got to do." I encourage her. After all, this is why I have brought her down here.

"But Martin, there is just _one_ way I could do anything about this…"

"…then you've got to do it."

"You know what that means?"

I nod.

"But what about us?"

"We'll sort it out. We'll get _everything _sorted. Trust me."

"But…"

"Hurry, and don't worry about us." I squat down to be on eye-level with my son. "And what was it you wanted, James?"

Reluctantly, Louisa disappears behind the doors she had passed so often while being head teacher, teacher and before that pupil of this school. She turns around a couple of times, but I signal her that she should move on.

_To be continued…_

_o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o_

_P.S. Kudos to DeclanS, who guessed as much even back in chapter 11. And yes, this chapter has already been written then._


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

James and I go towards the harbour. James' important news had been that he had spotted the ice cream van. Normally, I would have rejected his wish and would have gone to the grocers to get an apple instead. Today I'm in a strange mood and maybe James deserved a soft ice today. A small one.

Walking with my son along the harbour, James happily licking his ice cream, I hear someone call my name and heavy footsteps running behind me. I know what's coming and I prepare myself to take it stoically. I do have to get used to these idiots again.

"Doc! Doc!" Joe Penhale is still in good condition, I have to admit, and jogs towards me with ease having no difficulties shouting at the top of his voice at the same time.

I keep on going, trying to ignore him, but James has stopped and turns towards Joe. The PC just needed this moment to close the gap.

"Hi, Doc! Good to see you again." He beams at me. "And this is little James Henry?"

"Obviously."

"My, how you've grown!" James scowls and hides behind me.

Penhale hasn't lost his talent of stating the obvious. I understand James completely. I would try to hide away if I could.

"It's three years since you've seen him last. What did you expect?" I answer bluntly.

"Are you back for good or just…" Penhale removes his hand from the belt to wave it vaguely in the air, "…visiting?"

"Visiting."

"Sorry to hear. The village could do with a Doc again. We almost lost old Mr. Newcross last month, if it hadn't been for someone from the life boat crew who knew how to do CPR."

I don't answer. The ailments of the Portwennians are of no concern to me.

"Shame that they couldn't find a replacement, but then again, who'd be able to replace you? Eh?" Joe nudges my side with his elbow. I look daggers at him. "You know that there's a tea room now at your old place?"

Again, Joe shows his talent to state the obvious, as I can see the tables in front of my old home. Besides, I do get the rent for this house monthly from the owners of this tea shop, so I really should know what my tenants are doing there. I found it very appropriate when they told me about their plans. People thought it was a tea room anyway.

"So how long are you staying?"

"Over the weekend."

"And then back to the _big city, _eh?"

I ignore his question. Where does he think I would go to? To a parallel universe?

"My, it's good to see you again. I missed our little chats."

"Joe," I say, "shut it."

James giggles and even Joe, who doesn't have any reason at all, chuckles. "Still the same old Doc." His hand lands heavy on my shoulder and I sigh.

To my relief, Joe's mobile starts to blurt. He still hasn't managed to replace his ring tone with anything appropriate, so whenever a policeman is needed in Portwenn, Joe's gadget optimistically assures everyone that things will getting better.

He stops to receive the call and I hear him uttering useless, important sounding phrases. I bet he got his '_Roger that_' from some C rated spy spoof. At least he's gone for the moment.

I don't really know where to go until Louisa's meeting is over and without realising, I walk back to the school.

When I reach the entrance, I see Roger standing there with two boys. I guess they are his twins.

He looks at me, approaching the school. He nods. When I'm closer I hear his croaky voice.  
>"Hello, mate. Back for the judgement day? Where's Louisa?"<p>

He greets me as if I never have been away and as if it is perfectly natural that I am walking the streets of the village I have left three years ago, supposedly for good. There is something in this normality which is very welcoming.

I halt next to him and greet him shortly. "Roger."

It seems he doesn't expect more, which is nice.

While we are standing there not saying anything, our boys start getting acquainted and it doesn't take long until my son tugs at my hand to ask if he can play tag with the others. I don't mind. At least it gives James something to do. I make it clear that they are not allowed to leave the school yard. It is reasonably secure and there is no way they can get somewhere near the cliffs. Under these circumstances the exercise and fresh air will be good for my son.

The three run off and chase each other. Roger and I are still standing at the gates. We are both looking into nowhere.

"Did Louisa drag you back for the school governor's meeting?" Roger asks, still staring into thin air.

"She didn't know about it."

"But she came down with you?"

"Yes."

"So you took care that she'd be here in time?"

"Hm."

"Good."

I pause a moment. Until now the conversation has been straight-forward. I never could find many positive things to be said about anyone in Portwenn, but Roger had a way in dealing with my monosyllabic answers as if he didn't expect more.

"Why?"

"Maybe then there's hope."

"What for?"

"Well, I came here because Maureen and I are both earning our living in this school. I wanted to know first-hand what will become of it."

"Why didn't you take the post as head?"

"I'm a bit too old for that, mate. That wouldn't last long. Besides, from part-time music teacher to head would be quite a promotion. I doubt that this would have been a likely solution."

"I see."

We are again staring silently at the school yard, watching the three boys playing happily.

"You could retire." I suggest.

"Maybe we could, but to be honest, I feel too young for that." He looks into my direction and flashes me one of his boyish smiles. "Besides, it sounds better for the two boys if we were working at the school rather than being retired."

"Sounds too old?"

"Well, yes. That – and giving an example to earn your living and all that."

"Right."

I see that James tumbles and lands on his knees. He cries out. I am making a quick move forward to check on him, when I feel Roger's hand on my arm.

"Leave it. They'll sort it out."

"He might be injured!" I yell at Roger, trying to shrug him off.

"The young ones are a tough lot." Roger calmly replies. "No need to mollycoddle them."

While Roger was lecturing me, James has got up and moved his leg to check if everything's alright. I can see from a few yards away that he doesn't look as if anything's broken or twisted or seriously injured. The boys shortly talk among themselves and in no time, they are romping around again.

"See." Roger nods into their direction.

"Hm."

"If Louisa can just solve the problem with the school with the same ease…" Roger looks at me. "I'd really look forward to having you around again. I missed you."

A hand lands heavy on my shoulder.

_To be continued…_


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I see Louisa coming out of the school. She is still talking to three other people while they are on their way out. I recognise Stu MacKenzie as one of them, but I can't really place the other faces. Louisa is talking with hands and arms and energetically argues with all other parties.

I look at James Henry who is still playing tag with the local kids.

I walk towards Louisa, but keep my distance so as not to disturb her discussion.

Finally the little group dissolves. Louisa looks at the school, then turns around to look at me. Seeing her in front of the main entrance and me standing in the school yard makes me remember plenty of similar encounters. Many crucial moments of our relationship have taken place here. We are just about to add another.

Louisa comes over to me slowly. She looks worried. Finally she reaches me. She's looking up to me and bites her lip. Then she turns around again to look at the school. She keeps quiet for a long time.

"And?" I finally ask.

"It's looking bad. _Really _bad."

"There must be something that can be done?"

"Martin, this was really a stupid idea of yours! You really shouldn't have, you know."

"What have I got to do with anything?"

"Stop it! It's just a bit too much of a coincidence that you happen to decide to visit Portwenn again after almost three years and just by pure chance it's on the same day as the decisive meeting regarding whether this school can survive or not. You knew about this!"

"Ruth mentioned something about it on the phone."

"So, instead of telling me, you simply packed me into the train and carried me down here!"

"I tried to tell you. You didn't want to listen."

"Maybe I had my reasons?"

"Maybe the wrong ones."

"Oh, you know my reasons _and _that they are wrong. Great! So what did you think you'd be achieving in bringing me down here? Shall I get satisfaction that the school couldn't survive without me? Or did you want to prove that it was right to go to London with you as I wouldn't have had a future down here anyhow?"

"Louisa, looking away is no solution…"

"…neither is watching the things you love going down the drain if you can't do anything about it."

By now, tears are welling up in Louisa's eyes. I'm sorry for her, but I still believe it was right to bring her here.

"So there isn't anything you can do?"

"Of course not! How can I, me being in London…."

"And if you weren't?"

Louisa pauses. She looks at me, trying to read my expression.

"But we are."

"Yes, but just assuming…"

"What good would that do?!"

"Louisa, please. I just want to know if there is the slightest possibility…"

"Of course they asked me. They practically begged me. But what could I have said, hm, Martin? '_Of course I'm going to help. Our Kensington flat is just around the corner'_?"

"So you refused to help them?" I ask, not quite able to imagine her doing any such thing.

"Of course I couldn't!" Now she is openly crying, but when I try to take her in my arms to comfort her, she shakes me off. "_Keep _your hands off me! This is all your fault!"

"So you accepted the head teacher post."

"How could I? We're in London!"

"But if we weren't? Is this something you'd like to do? That you could do?"

"Well, I do have a few ideas. I mean, their main problem is the headship, so no one's really organising anything and it beginning to show. That would be the easiest problem to solve. The other problem is to get some extra money in to support the school better. I have a few ideas that could be tried. I told Stu about it, but he said it wouldn't work if I wouldn't do it. But how can I?"

"Silly you, I told you. Go ahead and do whatever you think is necessary. We will sort it out."

Now Louisa looks me full into the eye.

"So you're really prepared to be our GP again?" She asks incredulously and I frown.

"Goodness, no! Not if I can help it." I groan.

"But what about us? You're in London. I don't want to see you just on weekends. If ever. Or does it mean you want us to…"

"No, never." Now I manage to take her into my arms and squeeze her, before she frees herself and looks at me again. "But no one says I have to be in London to be a surgeon."

"I…don't understand."

"The way I see it, you have to have your home, and I have to have you. You need to be in Portwenn, I need to be a surgeon."

"I like the sound of it."

"What? That I need to be a surgeon?"

"No, before that."

"Ah, that you need to be in Portwenn."

"Before that."

"Oh...eh..." I realise what I've said now. For me it had been one point in an argumentative chain. A simple fact. By the way Louisa's eyes are glistening, she views this statement differently. Or maybe she's developing an eye infection. I have to keep an eye on that.

_To be continued…_


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"I want to try something. We do have this meeting about the new research project next week. I do have a feeling that they rather wouldn't do without me, if I might say so."

"Surely not, you're their best man."

"Don't you think I'm entitled to some privileges then? I told you that we do this project in collaboration with Plymouth University…"

"You really would agree to go down to Plymouth? But Plymouth is a hell of a way? You wouldn't be able to commute? Or we've got to move to somewhere in the middle…"

"Shhh, Louisa. Let me. I gave it a lot of thought. We haven't really found a suitable surgeon down here yet. We weren't happy with what we had on offer. So we thought about transferring someone from London to the south-west anyhow. I guess Imperial wouldn't be happy for me to volunteer, but if they want to keep me in the project, I suppose they'd have to agree."

"But it's still fifty miles – one way. You'd be exhausted. I could never expect you…"

"Shhh. Let me finish. Plymouth is partnered with Truro."

Louisa's face lightens up.

"That's just 30 miles away, and there is no good reason whatsoever that the project has to be performed in Plymouth. We don't have the right people neither here nor there, so as we have to build up a team from scratch, it doesn't really matter where. And I wouldn't have to take the trip daily, either, as I could do the evaluation, writing of publications and preparation of presentations from home easily. It's just that I might have to go down to London sometimes for meetings, but that shouldn't be more than two days in a row."

"But you've worked so hard to finally get away from here, to go back to London."

"I know, and I am grateful to you that you let me do it, but what I honestly wanted was to get away from the GP post and get my hands on the thing again that I'm really good at. For me, being a surgeon has always automatically meant being in London. That's where the most prestigious hospitals are, after all. But everyone can be a supreme surgeon in London. You have the means, the money and the right people to form your team. Isn't it far more challenging to build up a team from scratch? To do it where no one else has ever operated at that level?"

"You mean…you would?" Tears are streaming from Louisa's eyes now.

I take her firmly into my arms. I hug her. I don't care that we are standing in the schoolyard and that the whole of Portwenn parades by and sees us. I feel tears prickling in my eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me? You really should have told me." I whisper into her hair.

"Told you what?"

"How unhappy you were in London. How much you missed Portwenn. I was so blind."

"It was my decision. I offered to go to London with you. I knew that I had never liked London. I knew what I had got myself into. I couldn't blame you. It wasn't your fault."

"I was just too bloody selfish. I was so content about me getting everything I ever wanted, I didn't even see that you were withering away."

"I was doing fine. Everything seemed to fall into place for you. I could see how happy you were. I didn't want you to lose that."

"Promise me, promise me never to keep anything like that away from me ever again. You've got to tell me what you need. I'm so blind."

"I wouldn't say that. How did you find out?"

"It was the distance, I suppose. I missed you so terribly, and whenever I closed my eyes, I saw your picture before me – but the only ones I remembered were from Portwenn. I never once saw you in London."

"I started thinking how that could be and I realised that I still loved Louisa Glasson, White Rose Cottage, Portwenn, not Louisa Ellingham, Kensington, London."

"We're not married, so I'm still Glasson."

"I made you an Ellingham more than I liked. It was more complete than by simply changing your surname. I made you unhappy, although I loved you for being anything but. Please, never leave me again."

"I never even once thought of leaving you."

"But you did. You didn't move out, but you drifted away. I want you back. Please, come back to me."

Louisa clings to my neck and still embracing her, I lift her up, just as I had when I had proposed all those years ago. I gently sway her as I had then and it feels so right.

When I put her down and look at her, I see the old twinkling in her eye. She pulls my head down.

"You're so sweet, I think you deserve a reward." She kisses me, and this is all the reward I need.

"Only if you're paying in kind." I tell her.

"Is there any other way?" She asks me and her mouth as well as her eyes are smiling now. "You know, one of my street kids told me what she'd done with her boyfriend recently." She pulls my head down and tells me in a whisper _exactly_ what this teenage girl had done. I gasp.

"That's disgusting!"

"Yeah, I thought so, too, at first. I think she just told me to shock me. But come to think of it…if you're doing it with the right man…"

"But that's…that's…" I feel myself blushing. My throat is dry, my mouth agape, and I'm sure I've taken on a shade of deep crimson by now.

"I was quite shocked at first, too, but I have to confess, I can't get it out of my head."

"You're not suggesting…?!"

Louisa laughs. "Maybe not. Maybe I'm just teasing you. _Maybe_."

Now she did it again. For the first time in years. She took me completely by surprise. She caught me off-guard and I still don't know where I stand. She shocked me, embarrassed me and I love her for it. She had shaken my safe little world and made me feel alive. She put images in my head that I would have never dreamt of, but I also know that they will be hard to shake.

_To be continued…_


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Just right now James comes running towards us.

"Mummy! Mummy!"

"Hello James!"

"We're not going yet, are we?"

"Would you like to stay a bit?"

"Denis and Alex…they want to go down to the beach, looking for crabs. May I go with them, pleeaase?"

"Right, junior." I say and lift him up to let him sit on my back. "How about we all go down to the harbour?"

I don't like to deny him his wish, but the tides can be tricky and I certainly won't have him down there only in the company of other boys and a part time music teacher.

"Whew!" he screams delighted. "I like it here." He tells Louisa. "Even Daddy is happier here." I bend down to Louisa and give her a peck on the cheek, then I put my arm around her. "What did you say to Daddy to make him happy?" My son keeps on asking Louisa.

"That, young man," I say, "is not meant for your ears."

James frowns. "Don't tell me again that I'm too young for that."

I let him glide from my back and hold him around his waist in front of me. "To be honest, junior, _I_ was too young and innocent for that."

Louisa giggles. James laughs, too.

"But you're not young, Daddy!"

I let him ride on my back again. "Thank you very much, exactly what I needed to hear."

Louisa steps in front of me. "For what it's worth, I think you are…exactly the right age. For me, anyway." Then she pulls my head down to kiss me full on the lips.

"Ugh, Mummy." James scolds her. "Do you _really_ have to do that?"

"Actually, young man, it seems we haven't done it often enough, not close to it!" She laughs.

I shortly squeeze Louisa's shoulder. I get the impression that coming back to Cornwall might not be all bad.

"So off to the harbour." I utter, actually not knowing what to say.

"Yes." Louisa confirms and links arms with me. Then she stops again.

"Martin, you haven't done your shopping yet."

"Yeah, I know." I'd much rather be with James at the harbour than searching the village for some supplies.

"Shops will be closing soon, I guess you should do that first, don't you think?"

"Oh, goody. At least I avoided Mrs. Tishell for toothpaste."

"She would have been delighted." Louisa seems amused. "She always thought the world of you. I bet she misses you terribly."

I shoot Louisa a look and she laughs. She's back teasing me and I suppose that's a good thing.

"That's not mutual." I keep grumbling. "I have no idea where to get the rest."

"What do you mean?"

"A new shirt and …you know."

"But where did you get them from before? It seems to me not much has changed."

"From London, of course."

Louisa gets in front of me blocking my way.

"Martin Ellingham, you're not telling me you lived in this village for more than four years and never bought anything here?!"

"Of course I bought my daily supplies. You know I did."

"Yes, but clothes and such?"

"There is hardly a decent menswear shop in the village."

Louisa shakes her head. "Really, Martin, for someone who isn't vain you're really extremely picky with your clothes."

"What are you insinuating? That I'm vain?"

"No, Martin, I know you're not. It's just…" She sighs. "You know what. You'll never find anything acceptable in this village, if I'm not completely mistaken, but you definitely need some things for tonight and tomorrow. I will go shopping for you."

"Louisa, really, I am not happy about finding things here, but that doesn't mean that you have to run around for me to buy my clothes. I can do it."

"I know you can. In fact, I've never bought you even a bloody tie, but then you always had your usual suppliers at hand. If you go out buying anything here, I bet you'll manage to insult every shop owner in Portwenn within the next fifteen minutes, and I don't want the pitchfork brigade being ready on call from the word '_go'_."

"Really, I think I should look for something decent myself."

"Don't you trust me?"

"No, no, of course I trust you."

Louisa cocks her head. "I can only promise you that I will try to get everything you need. I can't promise you that you'll like it. After all, you'll just have to put up with it until tomorrow night. You'll survive that."

"But Lousia…"

"No '_buts'_. You go to the harbour with James. I'll do the rest. I'll meet you there."

_To be continued…_


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Louisa is about to run off, when Roger and the twins approach us again.

"Hiya, Louisa. Good to see you again." He gives Louisa a peck on the cheek. I don't like it. I've never liked it, even when Louisa tried to make it clear that it is customary among friends.

"No need to kill me, mate." Roger smiles at me, then turns towards Louisa. "Protective, isn't he?"

"Yeah, sorry Roger." Louisa always seems to feel she has to apologise for me.

Roger smiles again at me. "Relax, mate. I'm happy enough with my Maureen. Don't worry."

Now Roger turns his full attention to Louisa again. "So how did it go in there?" He asks, with one child at each hand, trying to drag him forward. "Shh. We'll go down to the harbour in a minute."

Both boys keep on yapping constantly.

"Hello, you two." Louisa coos. I will never understand the habit of talking to children in an unnatural voice. "And who are you?"

"Denis." "Alex." Both chime in simultaneously.

"Those are nice names."

Louisa turns towards Roger. "Lovely boys."

"They give us a bit of a headache sometimes. You know how kids are." He nods towards James. "I guess ours are also a bit temperamental. Just like boys oughta be." He ruffles their hair affectionately. "Keeping me out in the fresh Cornish air a lot." Roger smiles his crooked smile at me.

"Good." I answer curtly. Exercise in the fresh air never harmed anyone.

"We're just wondering if they'll ever get a chance to attend Portwenn Primary." Roger turns to Louisa again. "So how did it go?"

"Nothing's definite yet."

"But you are coming back, aren't you?"

Louisa looks at me, still searching for approval. I nod slightly.

"Looks like it." She tentatively says.

"The board must have been over the moon. The best solution they could have wished for."

"Uhm…well…they don't know exactly. Yet." Louisa puts her hand on my arm. "We had to talk it over first." Now she flashes me her brightest smile.

"Well done, mate!" Roger cheers me. "You know, I suspected for a long time that you're not half of the miserable bugger everyone thinks you are."

"Hm." There's not much that I can say.

"So Portwenn is getting decent medical care again?" Roger inquires.

"Not from me." I frown.

"Sorry to hear. We could do with a good doctor. Retiring? Dad around the house?"

I glower over at him. Really, what is he thinking?! Louisa's hand, which is still on my arm, gives me a squeeze. A sure sign that she warns me to keep my mouth shut.

"Actually, Martin has a job opportunity at a hospital down here. Sort of. We'll see how that'll develop." Louisa explains. "Haven't you, dear?" She asks me demonstratively. I grunt.

"Oh, good. And then they'll always say that you can't have your cake and eat it." Roger adds. "I'm glad for you." Somehow, he sounds sincere.

Roger's boys are getting more and more fidgety.

"So, Louisa, do you think there's a future for our school?"

"I'll call Stu first thing Monday morning. I'm confident that we can arrange something. And then we'll see."

"Thanks." Roger grabs Louisa's hand sincerely. "I never thought I'd be glad one day that you joined Portwenn Primary. Maybe I was a bit hasty in my first judgement." He smiles apologetically. Then he gives my arm a slap. "And noble of you to honour us with your extraordinary skills."

"And now…" Roger adds. "I have to go to the harbour to catch some crabs with these two rascals."

"Yeah." Louisa adds. "They made James all curious. So he wants to catch some crabs, too."

"Great. Then we'll all go together and catch up there."

"Sorry, I have to dash off to do some shopping. Mix up on the luggage front, I'm afraid. I'll meet you at the harbour!" My beautiful partner chimed and off she went.

Roger took up his pace down the hill. "This means boy's day out. We should be lucky to catch the low tide."

The five of us are heading for the water. While we are walking downhill, I turn around to watch Louisa heading into the opposite direction with a definite spring in her step, shortly stopping here and there to wave at people or shortly chat with them.

Suddenly I know for certain why I'm doing this.

I love her sense of freedom, the way she needs the open fields.

I am more like a working donkey in a treadmill, doing my duty day after day and leaving a mark with it. Head down I am trotting forward, only sometimes stubbornly refusing to go when it would lead nowhere.

Louisa is more like a wild mustang, galloping over the fields, the wind in her mane, happiest in a flock of likeminded people. She might be running into the completely wrong direction, but if she notices, she stops and turns on her heels, shrugging it off with a laugh and equally curious and convinced as before running in a different direction.

Maybe to protect her from her errant ways, I have put a fence around her, as if I have caught this beautiful animal. But just grazing on the field isn't enough for her, it doesn't make her happy. Strangely enough, it doesn't make me happy either, as I love her for what she is.

I suppose I have opened the gates for her now, and she is frolicking around like a young filly.

I can just hope that she doesn't gallop away from me, as I will never be able to keep up with her. However, I do hope she's coming back to the paddock to get her rest, and maybe to spend some time with her clumsy donkey.

_To be continued…_


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

We're standing on the sandy beach, near some rocks, Roger and I. We're close to the steps up to Bert's restaurant and laughter can be heard from people gathering there for lunch.

I watch my son climbing over the rocks, staring into some rock pools left by high waters. He is guided by Roger's twins, who obviously know what they are looking for and where.

Then the three of them are running towards some other rocks, shouting "CRABBIE" in a high-pitched voice and giggling.

It is strange for me to watch our normally quiet boy behave this way. However, even though I have my reservations against this behaviour, I can't see anything substantially wrong with it. There is no health hazard as far as I can see and good morals and behaviour are respected. Although I can't relate to this kind of behaviour, I tolerate it. Besides, he seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. I have never seen him laughing and fooling around like this ever before.

I remember myself catching butterflies as a child and how excited I had been when I finally managed to catch one of these elusive animals. Maybe catching crabs is just the maritime equivalent.

I watch my son in amazement and I realise that he will be the first in our line who will not remember growing up in London. And what about Ana? I doubt she'd welcome living so far away. Are you getting any au-pairs around here? The Wenns had one, so maybe.

It is time to think about some practicalities. Everything until now had seemed surreal, as in a dream. Watching James playing happily is the first manifestation of reality.

"A penny for your thoughts." Roger has been quiet until now.

"Hm…" I grunt in response.

"You know what your problem is?"

"I bet you'll be telling me in a moment."

"You worry too much."

"Hm."

"Relax! It's a beautiful day." Roger spreads his arms and looks to the sky. "The sun is shining, the weather is warm, Louisa and James are happy and healthy – what more do you want!"

"There are some practicalities…"

"Believe it or not – most of them can be easily solved and there isn't anything that would make the world stop turning."

I look daggers at Roger. We are about to make a life-changing decision and he is so frivolous about it.

"Yes, I know, Martin. There is a lot on your mind right now, but trust me that you will solve it easier and maybe…yes, maybe even happier…if you enjoy the good moments more. You did a very noble thing, and as far as I can see you made Louisa and James very happy with your decision. So why not enjoy their joy for a bit, eh?"

Roger looks at me with genuine concern. I am about to utter '_Rubbish'_, when I remember the miserable bugger who had been my first patient as a GP. I liked him. Not at first. However, something has changed the way I saw him. The way he took the news. The way he didn't start whining. The way he kept talking back to me, not by getting personal, but on the same level as I attacked him. The way he seemed to enjoy our little banters. His dark sense of humour. His cynicism and bleak view of the world resonated with me.

I look at him now. His genuine smile and open face. Judging by the way he was greeted by the villagers passing by he is reasonably liked. I don't spot any of the aggression in him any more that was so obvious when I first met him. My, when our cars bumped together, we were practically at each other's throat. I can't imagine this content man next to me doing anything like it now.

Maybe Roger is just a bit ahead of me, I realise. He has conquered his love a bit earlier than me. He has got his twins a year earlier than we had James. Late in life, but he has had experiences that I haven't. Now he is living in Portwenn with his family and he seems to be happy. I don't know if I can ever achieve that, but Roger's presence assures me that there is hope.

It seems Roger has been around in many of my decisive moments. I remember the deep sadness I felt when he stormed into my consulting room after mum had given me her devastating opinion on parenthood, but Roger burst in to declare that fatherhood is the best thing ever. '_Ask any parent._' I needn't ask my parents, but his comment resonated with me and left me with some doubts about my mother's assessment.

Roger was the one questioning me before our planned wedding if I was really sure about it. Maybe he sensed that I wasn't ready, then. Maybe he realised we both would make a horrible mistake. Too much was still unsolved.

Now he is urging me on to get on with the family thing and to enjoy it. Maybe he is right.

However, I can't get the worries about our future out of my head. Where are we going to live? Will Imperial agree to my deal? What if Louisa's efforts won't be enough to save the school? How would she take it? Is it the right decision to let James go to school here? Wouldn't he be better off in London or some public school? How long can I survive here before I start hating it again?

My head is buzzing with questions, but then I see Louisa appearing on top of the platt, waving towards us in the bright sunshine.

I guess I'm doing the right thing after all.

_To be continued…_


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Louisa comes towards us. When she reaches me, she gives me a peck on the cheek. She is more relaxed down here.

"How are my men doing?"

"It seems James is catching crabs or something." I answer her.

"Yeah, I did that too as a child. Doesn't everyone around here?" Louisa looks at Roger for confirmation.

"Don't ask me. I was fiddling around with the piano early on. I never was much of a botanist."

"Zoologist. " I correct him.

"Either way." Roger smiles. "I was a stay-at-home if there ever was one."

"Looks like your boys are not taking after you then." Louisa laughs as she watches the three boys romping around.

"They're a good mixture. Good with the keyboards, too."

"Computers?" I ask.

"I was more thinking of the ivories, mate."

"Really?" Louisa seems enthusiastic. "You're teaching them already?"

"Teaching is a bit too much to say. We're tinkling around a bit and for Christmas it should suffice to do the one or the other carol. But I don't put the pressure on them. Just as long as they are enjoying themselves. If you like, you can send James, too, when you've moved down here. See what he thinks about it."

"That would be great, wouldn't it, Martin?" Louisa nods her head vigorously at me, leaving no doubt that she expects an enthusiastic approval from me.

"We'll see." Is all I can muster.

"You're welcome. Any time." Roger adds.

Louisa tiptoes a bit to watch James better while he is stumbling over the rocks.

"It seems he has already found some friends." She states.

I look at her shocked. He has just met those kids. How can they be friends? I remember all the things I tried as a kid to get acquaintance with any other boy. It never worked. The only thing I could manage eventually was to keep the bullying in reasonable limits, by letting others use my homework if they didn't beat me up or humiliate me in front of everyone.

"Yes, it seems they are getting along very well." Roger confirms.

I look from one to the other. I try to detect any sign that they are teasing me. I can't detect anything. They seem to be genuinely believing that the three boys down there…that our son and the Fenn twins…are really friends.

"Good grief." I mutter, just to feel Louisa's elbow in my ribs immediately.

"That's nice, isn't it?" She demonstratively asks me, nodding her head again.

"Oh, goody."

"It seems we're going to see a lot of each other in the near future." Roger laughs at me. "Well, maybe we can get into chess while waiting for our sons to finish playing."

"What?"

"You play, and well. It'll be interesting to see if I can be a worthy opponent."

"What? Who?" I stammer.

"You play chess?" Louisa asks me.

"No. I mean…I did…as a boy."

"Never since?" Roger inquires.

"You do outgrow things like that." I state.

"I don't know." Roger voices his opinion. "I'm never too old to play – or learn."

I clear my throat.

Louisa is obviously interested in this bit of information. "Roger, how do you know? I mean…even I…" She looks at me and she can't hide her disappointment, or maybe there's even an accusation in her eyes.

"Oh, it's just that Al plays regularly with Ruth, and she let it drop that only Martin had been more difficult to beat than he is. You must have been quite brilliant. Not a surprise, I suppose."

"Martin, why didn't you tell me?" Louisa insists.

"Ah, that was ages ago. There are times…" I can't finish my sentence, as Roger picks up this cue to look at his watch.

"Speaking of time – Maureen won't be happy if she comes home and tea's not ready. I think we'd better go. _Denis! Alex! _'Scuse me, but I've got to go. It's been so good to see you. I can't wait to see Maureen's face when I tell her that you're coming back. She'll be over the moon. Then she'd be sorry she didn't come."

"Well, if she has another appointment, then..." Louisa keeps on chatting, and even Roger doesn't seem to be in too much of a hurry anymore.

"No, it's not that. You know how she is." Roger almost whispers, as if it's a secret that his wife is a bit on the hysterical side. "She had to take a walk to calm her nerves. She couldn't sleep for weeks because of the school."

Louisa nods and makes her _I-understand-everything-_face. I do my best to suppress any obvious signs of disapproval. However, Louisa seems to sense something and slowly steps on my shoe. Another sign for me to shut up. Come to think of it, she has developed many mechanisms to make me shut up. On the other hand, she's complaining constantly that I'm too monosyllabic.

"BOYS, HOME – NOW!" Roger now shouts, and for the first time today I recognise my first patient from way back then. "Sorry," he turns towards us in a softer voice again, "but when those two are near the water, they forget everything. Even their poor old Dad."

The twins are coming towards us now, with James following behind, arguing with them. When they come within earshot I hear our son grumble: "Oh come on! Just when I was getting the knack of it! Can't we just…"

"Daddy can get really angry if we don't come. Sorry, but we can do it some other time. How about tomorrow?"

I can see James' head drop and see him uttering something, but it's too low for me to hear it. He must be almost whispering. I see the twins stopping for a moment, talking to James. Then speeding up again, when they see Roger waving at them.

"You _must_ come down sometimes. Best when the dolphins are around." One boy shouts.

"Yeah, I _love_ dolphins!" The other one responds. "See ya!" They shout, as James is falling more and more behind.

Roger takes a child at each hand. "It's been _very_ good to see you. Give us a ring when you're back. And if you need anything…" He nods and smiles. "Sorry, we've really got to go."

Then he starts walking up the hill while James is still dawdling.

"James!" I call him.

He looks up and then slowly trots towards us. He kicks a stone away with the tip of his shoe. He is a far cry from the happy boy just minutes ago. Finally, he made it towards us.

"What's the matter, James?" I ask.

"I wanna see a dolphin." He grumbles.

"There are none around, or do you see any?" I ask.

"But I _want_ to see them." He stomps his little foot and small stones and sand fly slightly into the air.

Louisa bends down and talks to our son in a quiet voice. I'm glad she is taking over, as I am on the verge of losing my patience.

"Look, James, part of the appeal of dolphins is that they are quite rare around here. It is something special to see one. That means it doesn't happen often. You really can't expect to see a dolphin every time you come to the sea."

James is still being awkward.

"I can't remember ever having seen a dolphin, and I've been down here more than I liked. Didn't do me any harm." I try to get reason into our son and take him by the hand.

Louisa still tries the smooth way. She runs her hand through his hair and says: "Maybe next time, hm?"

"But then we are back home – and there are no dolphins!" My son says with gusto, and adds more quietly. "Nor crabs, or seashells…or anything."

"So you did catch some crabs?" Louisa tries to get him into a better mood.

"It's weird." James continues, already a bit livelier. "They are mostly in these little puddles. They look absolutely gross! But they're quite easy to catch. If you know where to look." James adds with the confidence of an expert.

"I loved to catch them too, when I was little." Louisa tells him. "Here. Here was my playground."

"You mean you could do this every day?" James asks his mum.

"Yes, and I loved doing it."

"Wow."

"Would you like being down here?" Louisa asks James, but peeks up at me.

"That'd be cool."

"Wouldn't you miss your friends?"

"Nah! Denis and Alex are my friends." He proudly announces.

"And your room? Wouldn't you miss that? Could you bear being in a smaller room?"

He wrinkles his brow. "Much smaller?"

"I…I can't really say. It's not…" Louisa stammers. "It's not settled, yet. But if we lived down here, in this village – would you be happy with it?"

James looks at Louisa incredulously. Then he looks up at me. "Really?"

"Your mother and I thinking of moving here. That would mean that you won't see your friends anymore, that you cannot go to your playing group, and maybe even Ana will have to leave us." I tell him honestly. The move would be a big step for us, but James would lose everything he knows.

"But we'd be living here?" He asks and I confirm.

"And I could see Denis and Alex?"

"Sure you can." Louisa nods.

"And I can play here?"

"If someone's with you, yes." I assure him.

"You're not joking?" James asks. He still can't believe it.

"It would make your mum very happy." Louisa tells James and nods vigorously.

"Cool." James' face lights up. "Really cool!" James looks from one to the other. Then he suddenly jumps around, shouting "Yippee!" and making strange noises.

Louisa starts to laugh and I am standing by dumbfounded at what the Cornish air is doing to my normally settled family.

_To be continued…_


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

James starts to run around like a madman and Louisa links arms with me, still catching her breath after laughing out loud.

"What's got into him?" I nod towards James.

"You just made two people _very_ happy, that's all." Louisa tiptoes to give me a little kiss.

"What? Why?" I don't understand anything anymore. I expected James to be upset when we told him that his known little world would be shaken up, turned upside down. Why he's so enthusiastic is really beyond me.

"He's happy to come home. Can't you see?"

"But he's not. We're coming here."

"Oh, you poor townie." Louisa grabs my lapels and talks to me in mock sympathy. "Once you're thrown into the backwaters and you get tangled up with some local yokel – and before you know it, you're outnumbered by the Cornish."

"James is not Cornish. He lived almost all his life in London." I protest, not liking what Louisa is insinuating.

She simply points towards James, who is still frolicking around like mad.

"Observe and think again." She quips.

I clear my throat uncomfortably and stare in disbelief. Louisa starts laughing again. "You poor thing! You should have seen your face!" Louisa can't stop laughing. "Just look at it this way – isn't it better having James looking forward to this move than being all glum about leaving London? This will be good. Really good." She brushes my cheek. "Thanks to you."

I look uncomfortably to the floor and Louisa's bag catches my eyes. I nod towards it.

"Did you get everything?" I try to sound casual, but my voice is slightly cracking.

"What? Uhm…eh…yes."

I try to get the bag, but Louisa puts it away before I can reach it.

"Not now."

"But…"

"No, trust me. I've got everything."

I have no choice but to leave it, as she is clutching the bag in her hand. This and her mischievous smile make me suspicious. I expect the worst.

"So you're done." I ask.

"Yeah…yes I think so."

"JAMES!" I call my son. "LUNCH!"

He finally stops his silly movements and rushes towards me, taking my hand. I turn around to walk up the hill.

"Whereto?" Louisa asks.

"Car."

"What?"

"How else should we get to Ruth's farm?"

"You want to get back already? Can't we…stay…a bit?" Louisa seems reluctant to ask.

"What for?" I can't see any reason to stay here. She has been to the meeting and according to her, the shopping is done. What else is there to do?

"Let's have lunch here." She declares.

"What? Where?"

"Bert's open, if I hear correctly." It would be difficult _not_ to hear the constant chatter from above.

"Bert's?"

"I heard he has a really good chef now." Louisa nods affirmatively.

"OK." I sigh. "Bert's."

Louisa's takes James' other hand, and so we start walking up the hill. Familiar territory. I have almost forgotten how steep this hill was. Either I'm getting older, or I'm not as fit as I used to be. I can feel my pulse speeding up. James starts to fall behind. With a look, Louisa signals me to lift him and so we both pull at his hands and swing him a bit forward. James squeaks with pleasure and we repeat the same thing a couple of times.

Just now, the pack of giggling girls make their way down the hill. I wonder if they will ever fade. They watch us and start to giggle. What else.

"Oooh!"

"Look at that sourpuss!"

"Father-of-the-year-award?!"

They all giggle.

"Nah."

I am about to say something, when Louisa gives me a warning look and mouths the words. "_Leave it."_

I do.

We reach the stairs down to Bert's and I am about to descend, when Louisa stops.

"Or should we try the tea room. I've heard they have great pasties and ploughman's lunches."

I look up the hill to my old home. My property. It is strange to see a giant tea-pot dangling in front of the little stairs, advertising _'Tea'n'Sea'_. The chatter on the patio reminds me painfully of the waiting room, as does the clinking of china.

There's a knot forming in my stomach. I am no sentimental person, but thinking of sitting in front of my old surgery and being served coffee and a bite from my tenants makes me feel sick.

"Uhm…Bert's." I say.

"Yes," Louisa let James' hand go and puts hers on my arm. "Bert's then."

As soon as we have reached the bottom of the stairs, Bert waddles towards us. Either he has put on weight during the last couple of years or my memory has been merciful to his size. His huge frame is approaching, a wide grin on his chubby face. He gives Louisa a hug and I cringe inwardly. Then he grabs my hand with both of his and shakes it wildly. My attempts to free it are futile.

"Doc, Louisa," he puffs as if he has run a mile, instead of wobbling a few feet, "_so_ good to see 'ya. Welcome home!" A heavy hand lands on Louisa's shoulder and I am about to come to her rescue, but I notice she's smiling. I can't fathom why.

"And here's little Jamie!" He tries to ruffle our son's hair, but he manages to turn away in time to hide behind me.

"James Henry." I correct curtly. Bert is completely unimpressed, as he is always deaf to the voice of reason.

"Well, young man." He postures in front of James. "I think I deserve better than that! I mean, I changed your first nappy." Bert chuckles, whatever for.

"Yes, those were the times." Louisa sighs. "Remember?" She nods in my direction.

"Table for three." I say.

"Coming! I reserved a table with gorgeous sea views, especially for you." Bert tries on his non-existent charm.

"No, you haven't." I can't help. I bristle every time I have an encounter with this moron. And there will plenty to come, unless his old pump finally and rightfully refuses to give any further service.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you." Louisa's response couldn't be more opposite to mine. She always falls for sweet-talk. I simply roll my eyes and try to protect our offspring from Bert's wandering hands, which are still trying to make contact. Why do people always feel they have a right to touch children uninvited?

Finally, Bert leads us to a table. Louisa breathes in deeply and sits down with a sigh.

"It's a beautiful table." She tells Bert. "So sweet of you to reserve it for us."

Bert beams at her and shuffles away, muttering something about the menu.

"Louisa," I try to be the voice of reason in an irrational world once again, "he couldn't have reserved the table for us. He didn't know we were coming."

"Of course, Martin. I know that. I'm no idiot." Louisa's face stops glowing and looks annoyed towards me. "It's the gesture that counts."

"We're customers and Bert wants to make money."

"Oh, stop it!" She frowns. "He even remembered, that's so nice of him."

"Remembered what?" Louisa shoots me a look that could kill.

"You obviously don't." She seems cross. Just a little, but cross. "Men!" She shakes her head. "You really can't remember the last time we sat here. _Exactly_ at this table?"

"Actually, I don't really remember every seat I have ever sat on."

"Yeah," she turns towards our son, who had rested his head on his hands and stares over the balustrade onto the sea. "James." She calls him, but he is still oblivious to the world. "Jamie!" She reaches over to touch his hand.

Disturbed in his thoughts, he looks over grinning like a madman. "What?"

"Something's wrong?" I'm concerned about the strange behaviour of our son.

He shakes his head. "Is it always this great here? It's….wow!"

Louisa pats his head. "It _is_ always beautiful here." Louisa assures him.

"Well, in winter." I grumble.

"It is _not_ winter."

"Yes, but in a couple of months…"

"Then the storms are impressive. At least it's not boring and grey." I can practically hear in my mind how she completes the sentence with '_as in London'_. Thankfully, she bites her tongue.

"See, Jamie." She continues to speak to our son and ignores me. "When we last sat here, your father and I, _exactly_ on these chairs – even the weather was similar, wasn't it?" She looks to me, but turns away immediately realising that she won't get any confirmation from me. "We decided on your name. Finally we took our time to sit down and talk and thought who we thought highly enough of to be honoured to give their name to you."

"Hm." James looks back to the sea, obviously not overly impressed. "Do you think you can see dolphins from here?"

_To be continued…_


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Bert's menu seems to have changed as little as everything in this village. _Tin biscuit town_. There is some truth in it. Time seems to stand still. As in fairy tales. _Once upon a time…_

Then again, me having a family is also almost like a fairy tale. Looking over the table, the fairy tale seems astonishingly real.

James is tucking in as I've rarely seen him do before. It is good that he had more exercise today than usual, because considering the ice cream he had earlier, he has had more calorie intake than usual. Maybe we should take a walk on the cliff path afterwards, to level the energy balance.

Louisa, on the other hand, eats slower than usual, as she is constantly interrupted by some villagers passing by and prying. I will never understand how she can endure the endless prattling of all and sundry so patiently. She even gives the genuine impression of enjoying herself.

I see the doubtful and disapproving looks the villagers shoot at me and try hard to concentrate on the fish. At least that is one thing I have always enjoyed down here – the quality of fish dishes. It is practically impossible to get anything but fresh fish.

Finally we managed to finish our meal. Bert was constantly hovering over our table, and I had to try hard to shoo him away. It earned me some kicks against my shinbone.

The worst moment with Bert was when he tried to make me influence my aunt to not employ Al so much. The _'boy' _is needed at the restaurant, Bert assured me. Obviously this oaf hadn't noticed that the '_boy'_ is a grown-up man who has the right to do as he pleases and to take any job he wants to. What Al definitely doesn't need to do is to justify himself for not hanging around his father.

I am always in awe seeing all the dysfunctional parent-child relationships down here – the Oakwoods, the Wenns, that horrid neighbour of Joan's, the loan sharks, the silly old git pretending to be his own wife…the list goes on and on. All Bodmin around here.

Then I think of my own parent-child relationship and have to admit that Cornwall doesn't hold exclusive rights on dysfunctional relationships. The thought is terrifying, because I can't see any reason why I – of all people – should have a better relationship to my offspring than anyone else.

I look across the table and I can see one reason why I can at least hope it might work.

Louisa puts her knife and fork down.

"Finished?" I ask.

Her '_yes' _is mixed with a huge, satisfied sigh.

We're back on the hill in front of the restaurant, only after Louisa had assured Bert that we'd be there more often in future. We'll see about that.

I turn downhill, but before I can start descending, I feel Louisa slipping her hand into mine. I stand frozen to the spot. After all these years, I still can't believe the jolt of electricity such small contact gives me. Far more penetrating than the faulty cooker that gave me a shock at one of our earliest dates.

"Martin," I hear Louisa's soft voice, "would you mind…" She nods uphill.

"What's up there?" I ask. I don't know what she wants there. It's just a dead end.

"Memory lane." Louisa answers with a grin.

"Huh?"

Louisa takes a few steps uphill, pulling at my hand to follow. I signal James to change directions by pointing with my head uphill. He takes my free hand and follows us. A chain interlinked by hands.

We pass my old surgery and Louisa stops shortly to tell James how I used to live here and how this had been a surgery and so on. James listens, to start with, but soon starts to steal glances to some butterflies chasing each other.

We walk up the hill a bit more and soon find ourselves on the cliff path. James is tugging at my hand. He wants to run around, but it is far too dangerous up here. In protest he turns around and suddenly is completely still, mouth agape. I start to worry, but before I can ask what's wrong with him, a slow and low "_WOW!"_ escapes his mouth. "Look at that! Cool! You can see the sea – and the village – and everything!"

He shakes himself free and starts running around, arms spread, making funny noises. I am scared he might come too close to the edge and shout at him. "JAMES! STOP!" Without warning he lets himself fall into the grass and starts giggling. I can't understand what has got into him today. There _must_ be something in the air that enhances funny behaviour.

"James? What's the matter? Are you hurt?" I am concerned and squat down next to him to check him over. My son, however, is laughing and just gasps. "It looks like you're in a plane. _Wiiiiide_ over the clouds." Then he makes this funny noise again, letting the air escape between his clenched lips.

Louisa has come close and suddenly tugs at my shoulders. As I had been balancing on my heels, I lose my balance and topple backwards, landing sitting in the grass. My son points into my direction and gets another laughing fit.

I just try to get up as quickly as possible, thinking of all the dirt and who-knows-what, especially with all the seagulls around. Besides I don't have anything to change into.

My attempt to get up is fruitless however, as Louisa puts her hands on my shoulders firmly and presses me back to the ground. Her hands slide around my neck and the next thing I know, she's sitting just beside me, leaning against my shoulder.

"James is right." she whispers, "It _is_ a beautiful view. Our little village in perfect sunshine." She sighs and leans her head against my shoulder. I feel her hair tickling my cheek and hardly dare to move. I just try to follow Roger's advice to enjoy the moment and not think about the consequences. Right now, with Louisa's skin next to mine, it works just fine.

James, in the meantime, has got up again and re-started acting like a plane.

"Don't go too close to the edge!" Louisa shouts towards him. "Otherwise we'll have to leave!"

James stops shortly in his tracks, looks towards the edge, then back to his mother and nods. Then he's off again.

"It's too dangerous." I say. Louisa pats my knee. "Stop worrying. He promised. And we're here. Nothing will happen."

"Still."

Her hands sneaks up my neck and fingers my hair. "Relax." Louisa sighs and cuddles into me. I am torn. I hate sitting in the grass and on whatever is in it. I hate getting my clothes dirty. I am scared our son could injure himself and topple and fall down the cliffs. On the other hand, I also thoroughly enjoy the closeness of Louisa, her smile, her happiness, and most of all her tender touch.

After a while Louisa whispers: "What are you thinking?"

"Huh? Nothing."

"_You?_ No way."

I turn my head slightly to look into her eyes.

"Your brain doesn't know what breaks are. So what were you thinking?"

"Uhm. Nothing special."

"Come on! Tell me."

"I…I…" I stutter. Whenever I didn't tell Louisa what has been in my head, I had a good reason. Whenever I gave in to her urge to tell her against better judgement, it turned out to be nasty.

"You've made us so happy today. I doubt you can even imagine _how _happy James and I are. And I know how bad it must be for you. So you can say whatever you want. Really." She looks at me with her eyes wide open and oozing compassion. I almost always fall for it, no matter how much I fight it.

I look back in front of me. The only chance I have to be able to withstand the urge of those eyes. I follow James, who is chasing birds and insects and inspects flowers. I guess he's more of an outdoor person than I ever took him for. So is Louisa.

_Goody!_

Louisa's finger traces the lines of my face.

"So what _are_ you thinking?"

"I…uh…wonder…if I'll ever get the dirt off these trousers."

_To be continued…_


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

We're on our way. Mind you, not on our way to the car or even home, which is still – for a little while – in London. No, just walking. When I inquired about our destination Louisa just stated that it was such a nice day and that it would be a shame to spend it indoors. Doesn't sound like a destination to me.

So we're basically walking for the sake of it. Louisa seems happy about it. So does James. I…well.

James is finally too tired to walk longer stretches in a row, so I have to carry him most of the time. That's fine with me, but I'd rather go back to the village and my car. Louisa, however, just wants to go a little further, before we turn around. And then a little further still.

The next promised turning point has come, just near a little cove. Again I turn towards her, hoping she's finally seen enough. I mean, really, she probably knows every stone here. Even I feel as if I've seen everything here and I haven't spent nearly as much time around here as Louisa has. Besides, one stretch of coast looks like another.

She turns, facing me.

"Car?" I ask.

"It'll take us a while."

"Yeah."

"You want to…"

"Yes."

"Well…" She sighs.

"James is tired." I feel a bit guilty using our son as an excuse, but it is true.

"And you're fed up."

"Eh…" I'm embarrassed a bit that it has been that obvious. "Tired, perhaps."

"Poor thing." She slips her hand into mine. "I've completely forgotten that you're out and about for ages, with the travelling and such."

"Hm." To be honest, tiredness had crept into every bone of mine, it seems. Now, that she mentions it.

"I…" Louisa bites her lip, a sure sign of insecurity. "I suppose, I got a bit carried away. Being home and such…" She waves her arms in the direction of the harbour. "And your lovely surprise." She smiles. Then jerks her head a little. I don't know what that means. That's something she normally doesn't do.

"And James is so happy here." Her head jerks again. "And everyone's so nice." And again. "Then, it's such a nice day and it'll be nice to meet Roger and Maureen and their twins more often. Such lovely children." Louisa keeps talking and smiling and jerking her head from time to time. "The weather's nice, too." She jerks again and simultaneously stretches her hand out towards me.

"Got your hankie?"

"What?" I'm puzzled. "Sure."

Louisa signals with her finger that I should give it to her. I dig my hand into my pocket.

"It's clean, I hope? Sure it is." She asks and answers the question at the same time. I just manage to nod, while I hand it over.

She takes it and turns herself around a bit. The sea breeze plays with her hair. Then she takes my handkerchief and unfolds it completely. She twirls it around quickly and it forms a long roll. She swiftly pulls her hair together and tries to fasten it with the handkerchief.

I could never understand how easily Louisa can arrange her hair in most different ways, and again I realise that these are skills that I'll never understand. She fumbles with both hands behind her back, but the wind always blows a strand of hair out of her skilful arrangement.

Finally, she had her hair sufficiently pulled back with my hankie and tries to make a knot. She is obviously struggling.

"Martin," she finally peeks over at me, "could you…please?"

"Uhm…I…"

"It's not rocket science, you know."

"I don't want to yank at your hair." I remember some clumsy mistakes in the heat of the moment I made in the beginning of our relationship, making Louisa rightfully furious.

"It can hardly be worse than what I'm trying here. So…" She signals with the loose ends of the handkerchief to make a knot."

"Right." I brace myself for the task ahead. First I have to get James off my shoulders. I tell him firmly not to move, as I can't concentrate on his whereabouts and making a knot. Then I take the loose ends off Louisa's hand.

"Just try not to mix my hair into the knot."

"Right." I carefully make a knot to secure her hair into a ponytail. When finished, I glide my hand over it to make sure that the hair flows free.

"OK?" I seek reassurance that I hadn't messed this up. At least Louisa didn't cry out, so it couldn't have been all bad.

Louisa shakes her head, then checks her ponytail with her hand.

"Perfect." She beams at me. "The hair was getting in my eyes with all the wind." She explains.

I gulp. There she is again. Smiling. The blue sky and sea as a backdrop. A picture of health. Oozing happiness. Ponytail wildly swinging.

She interlinks arms with me, takes James by the hand, who has to walk on his own for a change, and starts striding back to the village.

"Let's get you home." She declares. Even James now has a spring in his step knowing that he is going home.

We walk along the cliff path. The village is in sight, bathed in sunshine, but I know from experience that the way will be longer than it appears to be. However, I don't mind it a bit now. Louisa's hand lies softly in mine and I steal glances from time to time at her ponytail swaying to underline every motion.

My fingers and hers are intertwined and I feel ten feet tall. I breathe in deeply. No one is around. I try to steal another glance, but when I look at her, I realise she's looking at me, too. She smiles.

Suddenly she pats my backside. Quite hard. Several times. I turn around. I don't understand anything anymore. Louisa just laughs at me.

"WHAT?!"

"You should have seen your face!"

"Very funny." I snarl. I have no sense for this kind of humour and I am by no means turned on by slight flagellation. "Stop it!"

"It's just," Louisa still laughs, "you're still dirty. From sitting in the grass. I just tried to get it off."

I try to turn around to assess the damage, but of course no one can possibly get a peek at his own bottom. I have to take her word for it.

"Turn around. I bet you wouldn't like your car seats getting dirty and if I did this in the village, people might get the wrong impression."

"I…uh…" I cough nervously and try to clear my throat. Louisa finds endless humour in teasing me like this.

"Come on! Just turn around. Then you'll soon be fine again…back there."

I suppose I have no other choice, so I turn around and let Louisa pat the dirt from my backside. Then she gives me a final slap, which is slightly different to the ones before, and declares. "Now you're fine again." I turn around. "And don't look at me that way. It was necessary. Really."

"Hm…it wouldn't have been if you…"

"Yeah, I know. But sitting there was so nice. No other damage was done. So it was fine, wasn't it?"

I can't resist her smiling face and grunt something unintelligible, which can pass as contradiction as well as agreement. Louisa takes it as the latter.

"Good. Now, back to the village!"

We have just taken up our walk again, when James tugs at Louisa's hand.

"Mummy!" He tries to get her attention.

"Jamie?"

"Mummy. I…" he speaks in a lower voice now. "I need to pee."

"There's no loo here." I tell him. "Only in the village. Should be 20 minutes."

James stops and wiggles around. "I _really_ need to pee. Now!"

Louisa looks around. "Well, I suppose…then…" She takes James by the hand and just goes about a few feet away from the main path. She turns James around and starts fiddling with his trousers.

"LOUISA!" I am really shocked. In broad daylight and in a completely open field.

Louisa turns her head around.

"Martin?"

"You can't…here!"

"Do you have any other idea?"

"Go at least behind some rocks or bushes!"

"Do you see any?"

"There are plenty…" I wave vaguely into different directions.

"And how long would it take to get there, do you think?" Louisa asks me pointedly. "I doubt James can hold it in _that_ long. Besides, we're alone here. As you can see." Her eyes wander over the open landscape.

"But…"

"Shush!" She starts unzipping James' Jeans and I cringe.

"But you can't just…everywhere you like!"

"That's why I left the path. Really, how many creatures have left their droppings here, you think? One more or less doesn't really matter."

I instinctively touch the back of my trousers.

"Highly probable." She smirks. "I'll see what I can do when we're home."

"Ugh!"

"Martin, it's the countryside and everyone who is in his right state of mind has some reasonable clothes on." She looks at me while James is spending a penny. "And I _don't_ mean suits. Only, of course, when one has lost his luggage." She smirks.

She fumbles in her pocket and gets some wet wipes out. When we are out with James, we always have some at hand as children are terribly untidy and can get themselves incredibly messy.

As soon as James is clean and decent again, we start the last leg of our walk.

_To be continued…_


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

We reached the big grassy area above Roscarrock Hill. James is really tired and is hardly walking on his own now but is letting me carry him. Louisa nods towards the bench.

"Give your shoulders a rest. You must be tired after carrying James around like that."

"It's…fine."

"Really, a bit of rest would be good for all of us. Maybe James can walk a bit again after some minutes. Don't you think, Jamie?"

James doesn't seem too enthusiastic about this. Now, that he has had his fun and has been running around enough, he doesn't really fancy any more walking. I can't blame him. I have the distinct feeling that tomorrow, I'll have blisters. I never was one for trekking.

To be honest, I just want to get back to my car and then off to Ruth's. I've had enough of this village for one day.

In the meantime, Louisa has sat down on the bench. I have no choice but to follow with James. James is sitting next to me, snuggling into me and probably dozing off. Louisa is on my other side and rests her head on my shoulder.

Absentmindedly I have started to play with her ponytail.

"Oh, I didn't realise." She purrs into my ear, her warm breath tickling my skin. "You do like that, don't you? Didn't you mention once that you missed my ponytail?"

"I...ehm..." I'm looking for the right words. "It suits you."

She backs away a bit and looks me dead in the eye. "_It suits you_." She mocks me. "I suppose that should be a compliment. Nice try. Thank you just the same."

"Louisa, I..." I can't finish, as she interrupts me.

"Yeah, I know." Then she kisses me full on the lips and snuggles close again.

We sit like that for quite some time and with the sun shining warmly and my family cuddled against me, I feel quite content.

I reflect on this day. It has turned out better than I had reason to hope for. My anxiety and Louisa's fury in the morning turned out better as soon as Louisa understood the purpose of this trip. Maybe I should have told her before we went here, but I honestly had no idea how I could have done so. At least I am quite content that I had judged Louisa's interests correctly.

Louisa sighs. I look at her at just the same time as she turns her head towards me. There is a hint of sadness in her eyes. Did I do anything wrong?

"Louisa?"

She pats my knee. "I _am_ sorry, Martin. I've been wrong. _So _wrong."

"What? Why? No."

"This bench…this spot…you remember? Isobel?"

"Who?"

"You and names." Louisa sighs. "Sometimes I'm glad you remember my name. Isobel? My bridesmaid?"

"Ah." This promises to be unpleasant. I don't really remember _that_ day fondly. Looking at Louisa, she seems to feel the same about it.

"You remember her?"

"Idiotically damaging her eye. Stubbornly refusing to wear an eye-patch. Irresponsibly travelling while heavily pregnant. Going into labour while she should be going into church. Choosing an even worse spot for giving birth than you did."

"Hm, well – she just didn't want to miss our wedding, that's all. It was really rather kind of her. And she just came up here to track me down– I needed some time to think."

"Ah. Uhum."

"Maybe I shouldn't have? Been thinking?"

"Ah, no. I mean, you've got to think things over. Especially as important as that. I mean…"

"You'd been thinking, too?"

"I, uhm...there was…"

"No, you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. But I – I really have to apologise to you. Far too late. Sorry about that. I've been really unfair to you."

"I…"

"No, Martin, let me. You know why I didn't turn up at church?"

"Uhm…I…" I look at her sheepishly and want to run a mile, rather that than listen to what she would be saying next. I mean, we both came to the same conclusion. So why apologise for it?

"I…" Louisa bites her lip. "There had been…talk…" She starts hesitantly. "At my place. They were all there – Roger, Pauline, although I still don't know why she turned up, Isobel, then Mrs. Tishell popped by – and…they…talked."

Louisa looks away. "I suppose I made the mistake of listening. Listening to what they said."

She turns towards me again. "Said about you." She says gravely, as if it had been unusual that people talked ill about me.

"They always did. You should know."

"Uhm, yes, yes I did know. But Roger – he seems to like you – but even he. Then Isobel – she just had to take _one_ look at you, and she knew we weren't suited. It was…it seemed that only I could imagine us…you know."

"Because I wanted to make her wear an eye-patch."

"Yes, sure…that was part of it. I tried to ignore them, I really did. One thing, however, I couldn't get out of my head."

I sit still and hold my breath. I need to know, but I don't want to hear. I wondered all these years what made _her_ call the wedding off. I hardly could tell why I couldn't go through with it, but I had no idea what made her call it off. Well, except that she probably had come to her senses.

"It was stupid…I know now. However, when I try to clear my head, Isobel came, and then her daughter…and I saw you when she offered for you to be a godfather. And then I knew…well, I _thought_ I knew. I mean…I know better now."

She is confusing me. I have no clue what she is talking about.

"What? I…"

"I haven't told you, have I? I still keep confusing you. Sorry. I…they joked…joked about…" She sighs and covers my hand, which was resting on my thigh. "…what a _great_ father you'd be, _all caring and warm_ and such…and then you didn't even want to be a godparent." She shakes her head.

"I never said that! You decided…" I protest.

"Yes, yes I know. I thought long and hard about it. Trying to find out if I'd misjudged you. When I was in London…in my bedsit…alone…and then knowing that James…."

I look at her sadly. I don't know what to do. I can't say that she'd been wrong. I realised that I was not good father material the moment Louisa stood on my doorstep six months pregnant.

"I just hoped that I had been wrong…but I didn't dare to tell you that I was pregnant…imagine the kind of relationship that was! I was pregnant and could tell everyone about it but the father! And I seemed to be proven right when I turned up in Portwenn."

"That isn't fair!" I have to protest. "I mean…I…was…"

"…stunned." Louisa finishes the sentence for me and I just breathe out. "I know…now. You make a marvellous father. As soon as you held him for the first time. And afterwards. I knew I'd been wrong."

She sighs again. "To imagine all the trouble we've been through just because I took that slander too seriously. When it was all too late too, as James was already on his way. And being completely wrong about it."

Louisa sighs and gets up. "You'd better wake James up. Let's get back."

_To be continued…_


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

We're back in the village, and it is unbelievable how often we have to stop because some idiotic villager wants to talk to Louisa. It is also unbelievable that they obviously all have the same questions. I don't know if they compiled a catalogue of questions or if their inbred brains just work in the same mysterious ways.

I am almost tempted to suggest writing all the answers on a huge board.

Yes, James has grown a lot.

Yes, Louisa is happy to be back.

Yes, we are still together.

Yes, we are still living in London.

Yes, Louisa has heard about the school.

Yes, it is horrible that the school will be closing down.

Yes, Louisa has talked to the board of governors.

Yes, we will move down here to save the school if possible.

No, I won't be the local GP again (not if I can help it).

No, we have no plans where to live yet.

Yes, we will _all_ be coming back to Portwenn.

I can't stand all this silly small talk anymore, but Louisa keeps chatting away happily, giving the same answers over and over again to everyone who wants to hear them. It seems the whole village falls into that category.

I tried to signal to Louisa that I'd prefer to reduce the amount of stops and even tried to ignore the next _good friend_ of my partner and push past her, but Louisa just warned me not to be _unsociable._

Now, however, James is getting more and more tired and at least that seems to shorten Louisa's stops. I am eternally grateful to my son that he can enhance our exit.

Nevertheless, Louisa can't help to give a short introduction of our family history to our son while passing the old places.

She tells him about the school where she used to work and where she will work again. James shows little interest.

Then we walk further up the hill and pass _White Rose Cottage_.Louisa stops in front of the house. She fingers for my hand and our hands interlock. She gives mine a little squeeze. James moans "Not again."

"Well," Louisa still looks at the entrance, "this _really_ is a special place." Then she turns towards me. "A _very _special place to all of us."

I look at her and know she is right. If I had ever felt at home anywhere, then it was here, undisturbed from the outside world in general or intruding patients in particular. It was here that I had found rest. It was here that we were as close as we have ever been.

Louisa sighs. "If I just had known…"

"Known what?" I ask.

"That we were coming."

"Uhm…eh…right."

"I mean, I could have brought the keys."

"Keys?"

"Yeah, my tenants have just moved out. The agent has sent me their keys and urged me to check the property in case of some damage. Then the insurance need to know soon. It seems, I would have had to come here after all. I just didn't…"

She looks at me and I do understand. I nod and Louisa leaves the sentence unfinished.

"Next time." I say.

"_Lots_ of next times." Louisa smiles at me.

"Uhum. Do you think they changed it a lot?"

"Can't be more than new wallpapers and such. Otherwise they would have had to get my permission."

"Probably." I sigh. Sure, the red wallpapers would probably be gone by now.

"Can we go now?" James is getting impatient. Memory lane is definitely not his area yet.

"We're going. Sure."

"No," Louisa smiles, "we're just coming back." Then she takes James by the hand and we're heading forwards towards the way to the car park.

Just a moment later Louisa's mood is dampened again. She has spotted the '_For sale'_ sign dangling in front of the next cottage.

"Mrs. Averill's cottage is for sale." Louisa states. "Such a shame."

"She's probably dead." I remember her unhealthy life with lots of polynuclear aromatic hydrocarbons and close proximity to a tuberculose cat.

"You're mean." Louisa contradicts me. "I think I've heard she's at High Trees now. Too much work looking after herself, especially as she's on her own. Such a shame."

"Perfectly sensible."

"Yes, I know. I just mean…" Louisa sighs. "Probably some Londoner will grab it and then there's another local owner gone and some posh weekender or summer visitor has taken over another cottage here."

"Maybe one Londoner _will_ buy it." I say. "Let's get to the farm."

_To be continued…_


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Back at the farm. James has had his bath and Louisa has changed him into some clean clothes as the ones he wore earlier are completely spoiled. A luxury I have to wait a bit longer for.

Now we are all sitting around the kitchen table for tea. We have chicken with peas and broccoli and some fresh potatoes. It seems as soon as you run a farm, you only eat what's in your backyard. I try not to think of the fate that befell this particular bird, remembering the last time we all had a meal together.

James tries to tell his great-aunt excitedly about the art of crab catching. She, however, is not particularly interested, to put it mildly.

"And then…you look for those little puddles – something with pool…what was it…Mummy, what are they…and then…when the water is gone…" James keeps babbling on despite Ruth's lack of interest. He is bursting with his experience and just has to share it. I admire him for his enthusiasm. I don't think I was ever as enthusiastic about anything when I was little. Not even close. Dad always cautioned me that I should keep my countenance, so any heightened interest was dampened immediately.

I am glad to see my son so lively and obviously enjoying himself. I'd rather have him all excited about some bloody crabs than sitting in front of the tellie or the computer all day long, staring idiotically at the screen. Besides, I am relieved that he has taken the news of moving away from London rather well.

"And how did _you_ find this little village?" Ruth asks me, completely ignoring my son's narration. Her casual tone is belied by a rather suspicious look that she shoots at me.

"Windy." Is the best I can come up with.

I look cautiously towards Louisa, afraid she might be disappointed not to hear a strong affirmation for Portwenn from me, but to my surprise, Louisa is smiling. I manage a slight nod in her direction.

"What's so funny about it?" Ruth enquires and looks inquisitively towards my partner.

"Ah, well, it's just…" Louisa turns towards me. "Do you remember that radio interview?"

"Ah, ghastly."

"Yeah, not your brightest hour, I admit." Louisa smiles. "No man of big words."

"Uhm."

"What interview?" Ruth asks confused.

"You can't possibly know. It was before you came here." Louisa explains. "Actually, it was when Martin first came to Portwenn. Radio Portwenn invited him to an interview, just to introduce the new Doc to the town."

"That's what it was all about? I thought it was a grilling to prepare me for the useless chatter I'd have to get myself used to."

"No Martin," Louisa's voice is firm, "it was simply an act of hospitality. Well, whatever. When Martin was asked how he found the village, he answered…"

"…windy." Louisa and I finish the sentence in unison. James giggles.

"I hadn't expected that much tact, especially from you." Ruth chimes in. "There are _many_ other words that come to my mind."

"Which we _do not_ want to hear." I reply sternly. The last thing I need is a listing of all the shortcomings of this village of the damned. I do know them, Louisa doesn't see them and James will find out soon enough. No need to ruin the day.

"I suppose for day trippers it's quite idyllic, and that's what this village is all about. I have always doubted that it was ever planned to be lived in 365 days a year."

"And why exactly not?" Louisa sounds as if she's about to lose her temper.

"Dear, this is not real. Not in the 21st century, that is. The 21st century has office buildings, big roads, traffic jams and shopping malls. This is like a lived-in museum."

"Just because we haven't ruined our nature or community spirit and focused on the quality of life rather than profit, you think we are outdated! Maybe if there were more communities like this, the world would be a better place. Oh, but I forgot. Maybe you would have been out of work if the paranoid 21st century wouldn't produce so many psychopaths! And then you're out of business." Louisa puts down her fork energetically.

"You might be disappointed," my aunt responds in her usual superior way, "but you'd be astonished how many prisoners at Broadmoor come from quaint little villages like this."

"Maybe because they got mad at some townie belittling their way of life?!" Louisa shoots back. Under the table I squeeze her knee to make her stop. This is exactly what my aunt wants. Winding people up. Louisa, unfortunately, is a particularly suitable target.

"What?!" Louisa turns her head to look fully at me. I almost choke on the bite of chicken in my mouth and start to cough.

James, who had stopped babbling for quite some time, jumps up and comes to my _rescue,_ wildly patting my back with little effect.

Finally I can get the wretched piece of meat out of my throat and spit it into the napkin. I take a deep breath.

James is proudly standing beside me. He looks at me and instructs me gravely to breathe in and out slowly.

Louisa bursts into laughter, but James is scolding her with a serious expression.

"This is not funny, Mummy." He wrinkles his brow. "Choking on food is one of the…of the…most reasons for… casually…at home."

I pat his head. "That's right, James."

My son beams at me. "To save the victum, you've got to pat his back as hard as you can…and…phheew….," James' hand describes an arc through the air, "the bit is thrown out of the tube!"

"Martin," Louisa is snorting with laughter, "James really takes after you, more and more each day."

"No, he doesn't!" I almost shout. I don't want him to be like me. Not in a million years. He…

I notice that my family stares at me, mouth agape. Only Ruth is smirking.

"That's a good thing. In case you thought…" Louisa shyly clarifies, biting her lip. "It's just…James certainly remembered what you told him when he choked on the fish bone."

"Well, before you start James' practise, you certainly have to clarify some medical terms. He would confuse his patients otherwise." Ruth answers amused.

"James did very well." I clarify, putting my arm around James' shoulder and my son is bursting with pride. I suppose he regards himself as my saviour today.

He is. But not in the way he thinks. And not just today.

"And that's what you were willing to do for the next _who-knows-how-many_ years? Dealing with ailments your three-year-old son can deal with? I'm just glad that you've finally shown some backbone to get over that silly phobia of yours. Must be great to do real medicine again."

"It's…fine."

"To be honest, if I had to give up my job at Broadmoor to take a small town practise of frustrated housewives, phobic teenagers and overstrained middle-class clerks, I'd go mad." Ruth takes another bite from her plate. "Barking mad." She clarifies chewing carefully.

While my aunt continues her meal and monologue, I take care of James and get him back onto his chair.

The moment I'm back on my chair, her fork points threateningly towards me. "Don't tell me you wouldn't. We're two of a kind. Ellinghams. We need professional stimulation."

"I told you, it's fine." I feel my temper rise. Ruth emphasising the importance of my career can lead nowhere but a serious blow. I bet she's just keeping on mentioning it to wind Louisa up.

"Don't be so tetchy." Ruth shakes her head, then stops her fork halfway on its way to her mouth. "Is there a problem?"

"No."

She puts her fork slowly back on her plate and looks at me conspiratively. "No relapse, after years of working in a high-pressure environment again?"

"Martin _is fine_. He just told you." Louisa makes clear that she has no doubts about me whatsoever.

Ruth just glances over to Louisa shortly and then fixates on me again. "Really?"

"I _am_ fine. Work is fine. Family is fine – can I finish eating now." I answer her testily.

"Well, if everything's fine – then – _fine_!" Ruth smirks. "It's just if I had finally gotten out of here and back into civilisation, I wouldn't come back here for all the tea in China."

"So why aren't you going back to London?" Louisa asks. "Nothing and no one is holding you here."

"Maybe you're right. But somehow…I don't know. And then there's Al."

"Al can very well look after himself." I state. "He's a grown-up man."

"A grown-up man with an unhealthy attachment to his father. He needs to be more independent. Do what he wants to do, no matter what effect it has on his father."

"And you're trying to cure him from his family duties."

"Perhaps. And perhaps, he is managing the farm well and I want to give him the chance to achieve something without his father ruining it."

"Don't tell me you've discovered a social streak in your old age?"

"Thanks, Martin. You always had a particularly fine sense of tact. I am not decrepit yet. Although I'm starting to doubt my judgement lately."

"Perfectly natural."

"I actually let Al persuade me to pay a ridiculous sum for some repairs on a completely useless gazebo. When I heard how much it would cost to do it up like new, I wanted that ghastly thing demolished. I never ever used it anyway."

"Al said it would be a shame. I don't know why I listened to him, but I paid and smiled. I hope at least that he sneaks there with some girl to enjoy it. At least he said he thinks it's romantic, overlooking the sea and all that."

Louisa is all ears. "There's a pavilion here overlooking the sea?" She certainly is curious.

"Yeah." I sigh, remembering the last time I sat there.

"Belonging to this farm?"

"Of course, dear," Ruth's patience is wearing thin, "otherwise I'd hardly have paid for the repairs. You know, sometimes I curse my dear sister. This is probably the most expensive heirloom that ever was. I'd gladly swap this whole picturesque bunch of debts for a one-bedroom flat in polluted London. You can have it, if you like." Ruth says lightly.

Louisa looks at me.

"Well, maybe we _could_ swap?" She tentatively says. "We won't need our Kensington flat for much longer. Will we?" She puts her hand on mine.

"No?! You aren't serious! I warned you about the possible consequences of this visit. Now you have it. You're not seriously considering moving back here?"

"I can't see that it is any of your business." I snarl. "Louisa has a job opportunity here and I can arrange something."

"_Job opportunity?_ You don't call the vacant headship that no one with a bit of sense would touch with a bargepole an _opportunity_? There _is _a reason why no one wants it."

"It's a challenge. Louisa wants to do it." I reduce my statement to simple facts.

"And you? Back at doing what James could do? People would miss the tea-room, you know?"

"They can stop worrying. There _are_ hospitals outside London. I'll inform you if anything is definite."

"So you are definitely coming back. I never thought I'd live to see the day. Hoped, that is. So shall I get your rooms sorted?"

"No need." I look towards Louisa and decide it might be wiser not to say anything about my plans. Louisa is so easily offended if she thinks I make decisions for her, for us. "We'll talk about that later."

_To be continued…_


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

"_One morning Paddington and Mr. Gruber set out to see the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham_ _Palace."_

"_Mr. Gruber took his camera, Paddington took a flag on a stick in case he saw the Queen, and they both sat on the front seat of the bus so that they could see all the places of interest on the way_."

This time, I didn't have to trick my way into my son's bedroom. This time, I simply put him to bed and then waited for him to choose the book he wanted to be read to him.

I had been resistant at first to read about talking animals and sentient machines, but Louisa has got James used to this kind of books. As much as I tried to prevent it, James has come to love them.

Now, I let a Peruvian bear wander through London to do some sightseeing and use a blue train to teach my son the numbers. I even have to admit that I don't mind anymore. James loves it. That's good enough for me.

Besides, James seems to get the difference between fact and fiction. He would never expect the train we took this morning to have a will of its own and has never expected any animal to be able to speak. He thinks it is natural in his stories, but he knows that reality doesn't work that way.

As we often do, Louisa and I split up the bedtime routine. While I read to him, I hear the water running in the bathroom just opposite as Louisa takes her shower. When I have finished reading, she usually has completed her ablutions and she sings to James, while I use the bathroom. It's not only convenient as we both save some time this way, we also can spend some time with James alone.

Tonight, I can hear Louisa humming under the shower. She hasn't done that in a long time. I can only remember a few nights in London when she did that, mostly after we had an evening out.

Maybe I didn't do too badly today.

While my mind wanders, I lead Paddington Bear safely through London. I have learned over the years to read slowly and to emphasise a bit more than I would normally do. James listens carefully. Now he furrows his brow a bit.

"Do you like London, Daddy?" He interrupts me.

"Uhm…London is our capital and the biggest city in England."

"Hm. That's good?"

"Our government is there. The Queen lives there. The national bank is there. The most important hospitals are there. The national library and gallery are there. All important decisions are made there. Yes, it is a very important city."

James thinks for a while, his little face is serious as he digests the information. I try to continue with the story, but am immediately interrupted again.

"But you…do you like it there. Do you like it more than here?"

"Why do you ask?" I don't want to lie to my son, but I also don't want to answer this question honestly.

"You always tell me not to ask a question if someone has asked first." James scolds me sternly.

Unfortunately I have to admit he is right. I always taught him that and it is impolite, but sometimes there is hardly another way out.

"Well, James, it is where I work, so, yes, it is convenient for me to live there." I try to answer as honestly as I dare to.

"Con…?"

Sometimes I still can't help to use words that James is not familiar with, not yet.

"It's…practical." I try an easier way of putting it.

"And now you don't work there?"

"Of course I do. What makes you think I'm not?"

"But if we move here?"

"Then I have to find some other work. Why do you ask?"

"Aunt Ruth…she thinks you like London better."

I ruffle his hair. "Your aunt Ruth doesn't know everything."

James tries a shy smile. Then he is getting more serious again.

"Do you know her long?"

"Yes, James, I've known her for a _very_ long time."

"Longer than me?"

"Yes, James, much longer than I've known you, and much longer than I've known your mum."

James bites his lip. A habit that he has picked up from Louisa, it seems.

"Then she must know you better."

"See, James." I'm trying my best to answer my son as honestly as I can. I've never believed in deception, least of all when it comes to people that really matter to me. However, it is difficult to explain these things that I haven't really understood myself. On the other hand, James has had to witness some confusing conversations today, so maybe he has to get all the information into the right perspective.

"She knows me from when I was younger. Much younger."

"And you did like London better then?"

"I thought it was the only place where I could really follow my career, have a good job. Yes, James, I think I liked it better in London."

James is thinking hard again, as his little face shows.

"I think I will always like it here." He finally says gravely. "This is so much nicer."

"You can never tell what the future brings. Who knows, maybe some day you won't want to live anywhere but in London…or even in some other country. You never know."

"No, Daddy, I'm sure. This is where I want to live. Always."

I stroke his forehead. "See, James, sometime you meet people who turn your whole live upside down. You are sure of one thing, but then you meet someone, and suddenly you start to think if it was really the right thing for you. Sometimes, you end up at a completely different place or doing something completely different. Sometimes things or places you wouldn't have had anything to do with before."

"That's scary."

"Sometimes it is. Sometimes someone just ruins things for you, and you've got the feeling you've failed, or were outdone by the other one. Sometimes, however, it's different. Sometimes it's just that you meet someone who is more important to you than everything you ever had before. But you cannot do the things you used to do and be with this person. Sometimes you cannot even _be_ the one you've been before and be with this person. Then you have to start making decisions, about what is more important to you."

"Have you ever met anyone like that?"

"Yes, James, I have."

"Was that good?"

"Yes, James, it was."

"Uhum…Who did you meet?"

"Louisa…uhm…your mum. She…." My voice trails off. I told my son more than I ever admitted to myself. I don't know how I could describe the enormity of change this wonderful woman had brought into my life. I don't have any words for that. "James, if you ever, _ever_, meet someone like that, don't be afraid. Go for it. Don't be scared. Remember that."

My son looks gravely at me and nods. "Alright, Dad, I will remember."

Of course he will forget. He's too young to understand.

_To be continued…_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The children book Martin's reading from is "_Paddington's London Treasury" by Michael Bond._


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

I have almost finished the story when I feel Louisa approach me from behind.

"And did Paddington Bear enjoy his sightseeing?" She asks lightly.

"Almost done." I inform her.

"Took him longer than usual. He obviously took a little detour." She shakes her hair a bit and it smells fresh.

"Almost there." I still have a couple of pages to read.

While I continue reading the story, Louisa is standing behind me and slowly scratches her fingernails over my neck, into my hair. She tugs at my hair gently. I have to concentrate on the bloody bear. James deserves to have a decent bedtime story.

Louisa is standing directly behind my chair now and I can feel her warmth. Her hand is still playing with the hair at the back of my head. She likes doing that and when we're alone, I love it. If we're not alone, it's distracting.

Finally I have managed to get Paddington Bear safely back home. His adventure is over and I close the book.

"That's all for tonight." I bend over to kiss James' forehead. "Good night, James."

"Night, Daddy!"

I want to get up, as usual, to leave the singing to Louisa while I take my turn in the bathroom, but I feel Louisa's hands on my shoulders gently pushing me down.

"Why don't you stay tonight? Just a bit? What do you think, Jamie?"

"Mummy really sings super." James confirms.

Louisa brings her lips close to my ear. "Stay." She whispers and I do.

Louisa looks around for another chair, but this room only has one seat on offer. I am about to get up to let her sit, but she pushes me down again.

"No need." She sits down on my knee. "That's better."

I suppose James doesn't know that his mother is starting a seduction in front of his eyes, big time. I hope he also doesn't suspect that I am falling for it, big time.

I feel her warmth through my trousers. Louisa puts her arm around my shoulder to steady herself, or just to have an excuse for closer contact. Nevertheless, she seems to slip off my knee, so I steady her by putting my hand on her waist.

She starts to sing, her eyes locked onto James'. Her voice is crystal clear and I often have secretly listened to her singing to James. Now I am invited to share her time with James. Sometimes she reaches over to stroke James' hair and face and he looks drowsily but happily towards her. I try to sit still not to disturb her.

Eventually the lullaby ends and Louisa gets up to kiss James good-night. He is dozing off by now.

"Sleep tight." Louisa says, she runs her hand through his hair, "Don't let the bedbugs bite." She finishes, with James murmuring too as he usually finishes this good night greeting with Louisa in unison. However, he is too tired to talk properly anymore.

"He's really tired." Louisa says. "Look, he's already asleep." She tucks him under the blanket.

I get up and stand beside Louisa. "It's been a long day." I say.

"Long, but nice." She flashes me her most beautiful smile. Then she fingers for my hand and gives it a little squeeze. She nods into the direction of the door.

We silently leave our son's room, still holding hands. Back in our room I try to free my hand to get the bag with Louisa's shopping. I need a shower and then some fresh clothes.

"What are you doing?" Louisa asks.

"I'm going to take a shower."

"Not yet."

"But…"

"It's still early."

"It's been a long day."

"I just thought…."

"I'll just take a shower and then…"

"Can't we go to that gazebo? It's such a nice evening."

"Louisa, really, I…"

"We don't have to be long. Or is it far?"

"No. A few minutes walk."

"Come on!" Louisa nudges me. "Just a bit."

"What for?"

"It's romantic, Martin."

"What is romantic about a wooden pavilion?"

"A little pavilion, the sea, the coast, the sound of the waves, a nice warm evening – and you."

I am still doubtful. I am knackered. I only want my bed, but Louisa is looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Please?"

I sigh. "Alright then, but not too long." I simply can't resist her when she's begging like this, no matter how stupid it is.

She reaches her hand out towards me and I take it. She pulls herself close and tiptoes to give me a peck on the cheek.

"You're a darling." She smiles.

Everything to keep her happy.

We get down the stairs and pass the living room, where Ruth is still reading.

"Going out?" She looks up and asks.

"Just a little walk." Louisa answers.

"Since when have you been so fond of walking?" Ruth clearly addresses me. "I thought you'd had a month's share of exercise already today."

"The evening is nice." Louisa is again quicker to answer. Maybe that's not really surprising, as I don't really know what to say.

"I'll leave the door open then. Make sure to lock it when you come back."

I nod and Louisa drags me out of the house. "She's inquisitive." I grumble.

"Just forget her."

"As if it is any of her business." I can't stand it when anyone pokes his nose into my affairs. If it is Ruth, it is twice as inconvenient as she has a very efficient way of winding someone up.

"This evening is too nice to be wasted on elderly aunts. Just let your hair down for once! Relax!" Louisa is cheerful. I admire her for it, but I cannot really follow her advice.

"Hm." I only grunt in response. Louisa stops in response and turns around to face me. She cups my face with her hands. "I promise you, Martin Ellingham: On our way back, this funny head of yours will not be thinking about any comments from your aunt. Just let me see to it."

"I…uhm…" I clear my throat. I planned to voice my doubts, but then I realise that Louisa does have the means to get unpleasant things out of my head. However, I'd rather not have her apply those measures now. Not before we are back in our room. "This way." I point towards a small path that leads away from the house.

Louisa swings her hand which is holding mine, slowly back and forth. She has to concentrate on the path, but in between she smiles up to me. I would enjoy it even more if I weren't so incredibly tired. Finally we reach the little pavilion. Louisa sighs.

"And now?" I ask a bit unsure what she wants here.

"Now – we sit down."

I do as I am told. There is a little wooden bench all around the gazebo. It's not particularly comfortable.

"Not there, silly." Louisa laughs. "Come here." She pats a seat opposite me. "So that we can watch the sea!"

"Right." I sit exactly where Louisa wants me to sit. For me it's all the same anyway. At least I can sit down. Louisa sits next to me, then pulls her legs up and snuggles close to me.

"This is a beautiful spot. I never knew this farm had such a lovely spot."

Louisa's head is resting against my shoulder now.

"I wonder why Ruth never uses it. Well, I wonder about a lot of things she does and says. I hope Joan did use it more often. Would have been a shame otherwise. Oh, it is _so_ beautiful here!"

"Joan used it." I confirm.

"So that's why you knew the spot. You were here with Joan."

"Uhum." I don't want to dwell on that. So better not say more than absolutely necessary.

Louisa doesn't dig deeper and I'm thankful for that. She just snuggles close and looks at the sea. She's quiet for quite some time. I don't know what to say either, so I simply sit and wait.

"I bet you can see dolphins from here. Do you think we can use the gazebo sometimes, when we're back here? Wouldn't it be great to have lunch out here and maybe James can see some dolphins. He so wished to see dolphins. Of course, just today there were none around."

"There aren't any dolphins to be seen most days."

"Yes, you're right, but I so wished he'd seen some. James quite liked it here, I think."

"Hm."

"And isn't that great. He will be so happy down here. _So _happy."

"Looks like it."

Louisa smiles up at me and her arm sneaks around my shoulder. She's silent again, and so am I.

"It was such a wonderful day. That was really a nice surprise from you. If I had just known. I gave you such a hard time last night on the train. I am _so _sorry, but I really couldn't know what a wonderful surprise you had in store for me. I never would have guessed. Or expected." Louisa seems to feel the need to get everything off her chest all of a sudden and prattles on. "And James. He seemed so happy. He really loved it here. Just imagine running into the Fenn twins and they hit it off right away. We were _so _lucky…."

"Martin?...MARTIN?!"

_To be continued…_


	41. Chapter 41

_I wish everyone a Happy Easter!_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 41

"Eh…Uhm…" I realise that Louisa has asked me something. Unfortunately I have not the slightest clue what. I wasn't paying attention, or maybe I have dozed off. I am not quite sure. I just know that I can't remember what she had said before calling my name. I decide that it is best just to agree. "Yes."

"Really? I mean…I thought…" Louisa seems disappointed. I just assumed that she just expected an affirmative response, but what if the question was the other way around?

"No…no…I mean…" I am blinking wildly, as Louisa is sitting upright now, slightly withdrawing.

Louisa looks at me. Straight at me. Suddenly she smiles.

"You have no clue what I was talking about, have you?"

"I…uhm…sorry." I meekly add.

Louisa puts her feet up again and snuggles close. "Sorry. You must be terribly tired. You did doze off, didn't you?"

"I…I guess I did."

"And I keep prattling on. So sorry. It wasn't important. We can talk about it tomorrow. I don't mind if you doze off, but can we stay a bit longer. I like watching the sea. I've missed that."

"Hm…"

Louisa obviously takes this as a confirmation, as she pulls herself up and kisses me on the cheek. "That's sweet of you. I won't say a word."

Her head rests again against my shoulder. She is true to her word, she doesn't speak any longer. Except for one word.

"Arm." She orders me and I dutifully put my arm around her shoulder.

Her only movement seems to be her hand that is resting in my hair and draws slow circles. The steady, soothing feeling and the sound of the waves start to have an effect on me. My eyelids seem to weigh a ton and I can't keep them open any longer.

"Martin?" There is a low whisper near my ear. It's almost as if I feel Louisa's warm breath on my earlobe more than I hear her voice. "Martin, are you awake?"

I hear her voice more distinctly now as I slowly awake from my slumber.

"Hm…Yeah…I am."

"I'd like to go back, if that's OK with you."

"Right. Fine."

"Take your time."

I force my eyes to open.

"It's dark?!"

"Sorry, Martin. It's getting late, I know. But it seemed to me that you were sufficiently comfortable and the sunset was so gorgeous."

"But it's summer. And it's dark."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, but look at those stars." Louisa is still resting against my shoulder. "I haven't seen those in a long time, a bloody long time." Louisa sighs. I look up and see those familiar spots dotted over the night sky.

"The stars are the same all over Britain." I state.

"Yes, I know. In London you just don't see them. Too much light pollution. Here, you see nothing but the stars and the moon and the reflection in the sea. But now it's getting chilly."

I stretch myself. I realise that the cool evening air hadn't done my bones any good. Sitting on a bench dozing wasn't any better. I run my hand over my face and shake my head.

"Right. Let's go."

Louisa gets up and so do I. By habit, I try to straighten my clothes after sitting for a long time, but my tie is gone.

"What? Where?" I look around wildly, just to hear Louisa giggle. With a swift movement she produces my tie out of the pocket of her jeans and dangles it in front of me.

"You started to snore. You normally never do that, so I thought it had something to do with the air flow."

I try to reach for the tie but Louisa just pulls it away.

"I hope that was alright."

I finger the spot where the tie usually is and realise that not only the tie is gone, but the first button is undone.

"Just to ease your breathing." Louisa smiles and stuffs the tie back into her pocket. I cringe – a silk tie being treated that way.

I heave a sigh and realise I have to accept the abduction of my tie. I straighten my coat and shirt and then I realise that two buttons in the middle are also undone. I look at it and then at Louisa. I know what she has been doing. Whenever we have been cuddling close on the couch, she likes to undo exactly those two buttons to slide her hand underneath the shirt.

I keep on inspecting the state of my clothes closer just in case. Louisa laughs.

"That's all, really. It's not that I raped you or anything! Sorry."

"I…uhm…you're welcome."

Louisa stops and cocks her head. "Really? Any time?"

I cough nervously. Louisa giggles.

"Don't worry. I think right now, we had just better get you to bed."

Bed. Finally. I have almost given up hope of ever seeing that again.

I start walking towards the house.

"Arm." Louisa orders. I slow down and put my arm around her. She snuggles close. As nice as it is, it also slows down our way back to the farm. Back to bed.

Finally we make it to our room. I slump onto the chair next to the bed and run my hand over my face. I groan, while Louisa starts undressing.

"What's wrong?" She sounds cheerful.

"I just remembered that I didn't have a shower before."

"You're kidding. You come to bed. In a few hours you can take your morning shower. Just make yourself fresh while I give you your boxer shorts for tonight."

"Really, I should…"

"…go to bed, because you haven't seen one for ages." She pushes me slightly. "Off you go. The sooner you're back, the sooner we can sleep."

I want to contradict her, but I can hardly make my way to the bathroom to use the loo. So I am back in a tad to find Louisa in her pyjamas already in bed. On my side of the bed is a strange object, and I have difficulties in identifying it as my sleeping wear.

I pick it up and suddenly, I am wide awake.

"WHAT THE HECK?!" I look at Louisa, who is trying hard not to burst into laughter. "NO, YOU HAVEN'T?!" I shout at her.

Finally, Louisa can't control herself any longer and just starts laughing. She points into my direction. "You should see your face!" She gasps. "Your eyes…almost popping out…" Louisa can hardly speak as she is laughing that hard.

"That's not funny." I snarl, still holding the offending article at arm's length.

"Oh, Martin!" Louisa crawls over the bed towards me and kneels in front of me, starting to stroke my shoulder. "Sorry, but I couldn't resist." She pulls herself up to give me a peck on the cheek. "Besides, it's just for tonight. No one will see it except for me."

I look at her in horror. "The underwear for tomorrow?"

"It's different. I promise." Louisa laughs. "Come to bed now and stop making such a fuss."

I sigh. I think I can't help it. So I undress and put the boxer shorts on.

They are white. The words "**I**" and "**Cornwall**" in big bold letters are linked by a big, red heart.

_To be continued…_


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

I slowly wake up. I feel better this morning. I had a good night's sleep. I am not sure what has woken me up.

Louisa's head is resting on my bare chest and her hair is flowing over my bare skin. One of her arms is stretched all over me to reach the opposite shoulder. I feel her warm breath rhythmically against my skin. I have missed that this entire week.

I listen to the sounds. I can hear the waves even here. There are seagulls screeching as they always do near the coast, although London has its fair share of these disgusting animals too. The birds from the garden are also singing here and there and the ever-blowing wind slightly rattles at the windows.

I'm about to drift off again when I realise that there is someone in the room. I force my eyes to open and look up.

James is standing in our doorframe and is looking towards us. I try to move as little as possible so as not to wake Louisa and speak as softly as I can.

"What's the matter, James?"

"I need the loo."

"Wait a moment."

"I tried to find it, but I can't remember where it is."

"I am coming." I try to remove Louisa's hand from my shoulder as gently as I can and then try to turn her onto her back. She is murmuring something and is almost half awake.

"Shh, Louisa. Keep sleeping. It's just James. I'll tend to him."

"Mmmh, yeah…" Louisa murmurs sleepily, before turning onto her left side.

I get out of bed and by habit I try to reach for my robe, just to realise that I don't have one this morning. So I can't help but get out of bed in my boxers, only. I would love to get dressed before going down the hall, but by the way James is stepping from one foot to the other, there's no time for that.

"It's fine, James, I'm coming." I run my hand over my face and get up. When I walk towards my son, he starts to giggle.

"You've got a heart – on your pants!" He laughs.

"Yeah, I know." I can't see anything funny. "It's your mother's idea of a joke."

"Mmmh.", comes from the general direction of the bed.

"Nothing. Keep sleeping." I say to Louisa while I take my son's hand and lead him to the bathroom.

Soon James has finished his business and I take the opportunity to freshen up myself. Then I bring James back to bed, as a quick glance at the clock reveals that it is only half past six.

When I come back into our room, Louisa is lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, facing the door.

"Suits you." She nods into my direction.

"You still think it's funny." I snarl.

"At least it is sexy." Louisa smiles.

"Don't be daft."

"Well, sexy is very much a point of view. _My_ point of view." Louisa pats the bed next to her. "Just come back to bed, and I will demonstrate my point of view in detail."

"I say I'd rather not. You'll never know. Aunt Ruth might turn up."

"To find that Marty is doing something naughty during his stay?" Louisa adds cheekily. She is kneeling on the bed now. As I approach, she comes closer to the edge and reaches for my waistband.

"If you really can't stand those boxers, there's just one solution." She slides her hand underneath the waistband. Before she manages to turn me further on – or the pants down - I grab her hand.

"Sorry," I say and kiss her forehead gently, "not here."

"Why not?"

"Uhm…I've slept in this bed when I was little. It would feel weird if we…"

"Yes, but you're a big boy now." Louisa purrs. "So you are allowed to play with the girls."

I still blush when Louisa talks dirty. She knows that and I suppose that's why she does it when she likes to turn me on.

"Uhm…no…I…" I sigh. "The lock on the door never worked. There's not even a key anymore."

"The door is shut. James just went to the loo. He'll be sleeping for the next hour or so."

"There's still Aunt Ruth."

Louisa frees her hand and puts it on my bare chest. "It's a shame, really. I would have gladly got you out of those pants."

"After tormenting me with them in the first place." I add.

"Just a little torture." Louisa smiles. "But you're coming back to bed?" She has slid one finger again underneath the waistband and tugs slightly at it. I follow her gentle pull and soon join her in bed.

"Then let's just cuddle." Louisa says and snuggles close. I wrap my arms around her and put my head on her head.

The skin is our largest organ. It provides protection, helps to regulate the body temperature and exchanges gases with our surroundings. Furthermore, it is a sensor for haptic impulses as well as temperature.

Before my first night at _White Rose Cottage_, skin was nothing more than that.

That night altered my perception completely.

Skin is the softness of Louisa's neck, the small hairs on her arms, the sweet smell. Skin is giving you electric jolts beyond the haptic experience.

Skin is a blanket. A comfort zone.

We are lying together and I am not sure if Louisa has fallen asleep again. I enjoy her closeness and could watch over her sleep all morning. She feels soft in my arms.

Then I realise that Louisa is still awake, as she starts nuzzling my shoulder.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Nah, but this is nice." She purrs. "I can't remember when we had our last lie-in."

"You're always at some meeting."

"Or you're on shift."

I hug her tightly. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry any longer. Do you think we can…change?"

"The shifts? Hardly. One of the side effects of being a doctor."

"Not about that. I understand." She bites my shoulder. "I really do. But if you're not on shift what about then?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you think we could spend some more time together, then?"

"I…uhm…what about your meetings?"

"I suppose I can make a note in my diary." Louisa laughs. "Besides, they have to get along without me anyway, with us moving to Cornwall."

"Uhm…good."

"Do you think you can remember that?"

"Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Oh, you're so clever." Louisa is stroking my hair and starts kissing my face.

Louisa clambers on top of me and starts getting more demonstrative.

"Lousia, really," I try to protest, but I don't sound very convincing, even to my own ears.

"Yes, Martin – really." She bends down to kiss me.

"It's really not the right place. I mean…at my Aunt's…it's not appropriate."

"If this place hasn't seen some proper action since beginning of time, then it's high time to change that, don't you think?"

"Well, maybe it wasn't _that_ long ago." I feel myself blush remembering the last time I definitely know _something_ was going on, between Aunty Joan and that ghastly painter.

"Then it's fine." Louisa starts to work me up, still sitting atop of me. "Just lay back and relax. Let me do the rest." She purrs and nibbles at my ear. I heave myself up and look at her. She smiles at me. Dark, lust filled eyes gleaming hungrily. I sink down onto the cushions again and just follow every touch of hers.

There's a warm glow floating through me. My heart beat drums in my ears. I feel too good to stop her ministrations. Her hand has slid under my boxers – and I don't give a damn if they have a heart on them or the portrait of the queen or three lions – and she begins to slowly push them down.

She hasn't got far, when there's a sort of scratching on the door, before it opens slowly with a squeak.

_To be continued…_


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

"I can't sleep." James is standing in the door, his cuddly toy, a tatty, one-eyed monkey, dangling from his hand.

Thankfully, Louisa hasn't succeeded in stripping me bare yet, nor had she been stripping in front of me. While we heard the door opening, I had pulled my pants completely up again and Louisa had straightened her pyjamas, so we were reasonably decent. The only suspicious thing is that Louisa is still atop of me.

"There was some noise." James moans. "I don't know. Some animals or something."

"Chickens." I curtly say, still a bit breathless. "Those damned chickens."

"Martin!" Louisa scolds me. She doesn't like it when I swear in front of James. I have to admit, she's right.

"See, Jamie," Louisa picks up answering our son, running her hand through her hair, "on a farm, the day starts early. Your Aunty Ruth has a lot of chickens and they cannot find enough food for themselves. So they need feeding, and when feeding time approaches, they get a bit agitated. Noisy, as you said."

"I can't sleep with all this noise." James looks at us and it seems he only realises now that Louisa is sitting on me. "Are you playing? Can I join?"

I almost choke. Louisa just smiles shyly, also obviously uncomfortable about the situation. She recovers first and answers our son. "Uhm…sorry…but it's…it's really just a game for two. You can't possibly play it with anyone more." She still is a bit embarrassed about it, but she recovers by the minute. "Well, but maybe we can play something else. So hop in and we can fool around a bit. How does that sound?"

"Great!" Jamie beams and literally hops into the bed. Louisa just bends down to whisper into my ear. "Sorry. I _really_ am." Then she gets off me and places James between us.

"So." She asks our son. "Do you want to sleep or fool around?"

As an answer, James is attacking Louisa and starts trying to tickle her. In no time, the two of them are involved in a joyous play fight, accompanied by little shrieks and laughs.

This, too, is only a game for two. I am in the same bed, but in a different world. I don't know the appeal of it. Besides, I am definitely stronger than both of them, so I might hurt them.

So, I lean back in bed and watch. I watch them sort of chasing each other over the blanket. I watch them tickle each other and playfully fending the other one off. I have to move aside when Louisa grabs my pillow from underneath me to counterattack the swinging cushion James is using. I hear them laughing and chuckling.

I watch them being happy. I watch them contentedly, because in some way I _am_ part of their joy. If I hadn't had the idea about the Cornwall trip, they wouldn't be chasing each other over the blankets now.

Finally Louisa grabs James and cuddles him.

"Now I've got you!" She laughs.

"No, you haven't!"

"Got you!"

It seems I am watching _two_ kids playing. Louisa is so good at this sort of thing. Finally, she grabs James by the feet and lets him dangle out of the bed head first. I watch closely now, concerned something might happen to him. Afraid, he might tumble and fall. However, Louisa seems to have the situation under control. She gasps: "Admit that I've got you."

James is squealing in delight. "Is that how you turn someone upside down?"

"Yes, this is how I turn _you_ upside down."

"No…" James gasps, giggles. "I mean someone's world?...No…what was it, Daddy?"

My throat tightens. This was not meant for Louisa's ears.

"No, nothing….I…" I stutter.

Louisa pulls James back into bed and he snuggles close between us.

"Oh…life! That's it, isn't it Daddy? See, I did remember."

I look towards Louisa in horror. She still looks puzzled towards James, then runs her hand through his hair.

"Is that what your daddy told you?"

"He said I should remember, and I did!" My son announces proudly. "But how do you turn a life upside down?" His brow furrows as he obviously tried to make sense of what I did say.

Louisa now looks fully at me, her eyes a bit insecure. She is still stroking James' head.

"You don't…I mean…you don't do it deliberately. That would be…cruel…mean…If you find someone, you should take him as he is."

"But Dad said…"

"No, James." I interrupt him. First, I didn't intend him to tell Louisa what I have said. Second, I like to hear what Louisa was about to say. "Let your mother finish."

"Never plan to turn someone's life upside down. That's selfish. Sometimes, however, the other one allows you to do it. He turns his life around for you….and that…" Louisa's eyes glisten brightly towards me, "that is such a gift…such a _generous_ gift. It isn't to be accepted lightly. It…is such a huge responsibility to accept it. You are responsible for his life, as he made you the centre of his life. Only a truly extraordinary person…man…can be so generous."

James looks confused. I bet he didn't understand any of it. Even I can hardly believe my ears. There's a warm glow inside of me, fired by Louisa's flashing smile.

Louisa reaches over James and she cups my face with one hand. She mouths silently "_Thank you."_

Then she bends over to kiss me. Despite James being between us, the kiss grows deeper.

"You wicked man." Louisa whispers when we break apart.

"Hm."

"I didn't get that." James states, now completely confused.

_To be continued…_


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

After frolicking around, James had become tired again and was able to sleep despite the kerfuffle outside. Of course, he didn't go back into his own bed but snuggled close between Louisa and I.

At first, I was absolutely against letting James sleep in our bed. He has to learn to sleep alone. He mustn't become too dependant on us.

At first, I thought Louisa had agreed, as she never brought the subject up again.

Then, one night, I came home rather late. There had been an emergency and I was needed long after my hours. When I came into our flat, everything was dark and quiet. I fixed myself a coffee and stood on the little balcony in front of our living room for a while. Then I freshened up and went to bed.

When I quietly slipped under the duvet, I realised that James has taken my place.

I was tired. I didn't want to wake them. So I pushed James aside a bit and slipped into bed with them.

The next morning I learned that Louisa had often let James into bed when I wasn't there, but that they had always managed to get James back into his own bed before I got home. Normally, Louisa reads in bed for some time, so she let James into bed with her while she was reading and put him back into his own bed before she got to sleep. That night, Louisa had fallen asleep with the book in her hand and so the little guest was still in our bed when I came home.

The next morning, we had a very lively discussion on the subject. I tried to argue my case putting forward the development studies I have read. Ever since I had known of James' existence I have kept an eye on all paediatric publications. I read them carefully, as you can never know when they might be of any use. Louisa has the irritating habit of claiming that she had read something opposite, but never seems to remember the source or the author. A factual discussion is therefore practically impossible. An even more irritating habit is that whenever we disagree about parental issues, Louisa ends up accusing me of not knowing what a normal childhood looks like. She keeps on pointing out that being locked away under the stairs doesn't qualify as parenting.

I have cursed myself several times that I had let that slip during the chicken coop incident. She uses it against me whenever possible, along with being beaten by my dad and being sent to boarding school early. I am not sure if Louisa realises how much these references still hurt. Maybe she has just realised that it is an easy way to end a parental argument. There is nothing that I can say in my defence. Maybe my parents had a very unfortunate way of bringing me up, however I cannot see why I should take the blame.

Needless to say, Louisa has won this controversy. Again. So, when James can't sleep, usually early in the morning, he comes over to sleep in our bed, tucked between us.

I even have to admit that it is not as bad as I thought it would be. It is gratifying to think that our presence is enough to ensure James' peace of mind. In moments like this I do have hope that I'm not a complete failure as a father.

No matter how long this goes on, I still have my doubts about my paternal qualities. However, the least I can say is that I do try.

I try to finger my watch on the bedside table as carefully as possible. I don't want to wake either of them if it is too early, as Louisa has fallen asleep as well as James.

I couldn't sleep again after the morning's disturbance. Maybe after the nap from last night, I've had my share of sleep. Maybe after Louisa's interrupted turn-on this morning, my system really can't calm down again. Maybe after all the nights of brooding, thinking and doubting my decision, I'm simply enjoying the proximity of my family.

James is cuddled close to me. Louisa's arm reaches over our son and rests on my shoulder. Her leg is nestled between mine. Life would be perfect, if James hadn't inherited his mother's inclination to snore. In perfect unison they soundfully release air. Another possible reason why I can't go back to sleep.

The clock reveals that it's time for breakfast. I don't really want to disturb them, but on the other hand, I am rather hungry. To confirm that it is breakfast time, the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers through the house.

I softly put my hands on Louisa's shoulder and shake her slightly. At first, she just grunts and continues snoring. I shake her a bit more vigorously.

"Hm?" Louisa answers drowsily.

"Breakfast."

"Oh, that's nice. Breakfast in bed."

I am confused.

"Not here, downstairs."

"Oh, of course. How could I even think." Louisa has opened her eyes now and slowly turns onto her back. "Well, let's get up then." Louisa sits up and runs her hand through her hair. Then she reaches over for the robe she has beside the bed. "You take care of James, I'll take a shower." She announces.

"But…"

"My hair needs longer to dry. You're finished in a tad. So I go first."

"At least give me my things for today, first." I shout after her while she is on her way to the bathroom.

One thing is for sure – I'll insist on an en-suite for the master bedroom in our future home.

I sit up and start shaking James awake. With as much difficulty as we had in his first year to put him to bed, it is now just as difficult to wake him up. He sleeps rather deeply. Another thing he's got from Louisa. Louisa has managed to sleep through quite a lot of James' bawlings over the years. Sometimes I suspected it was her way of making sure that she wouldn't have to tend to him.

James stirs and just turns onto his other side.

"James!" I call him. "Time to get up." I get out of bed and try to look for that wretched shopping bag to get my things, but I can't see it. I have no clue how Louisa manages to create a mess, even when there's hardly anything around to clutter the place up.

"James!" I shout in between and gain only a sleepy "Just a few minutes more." Then James buries his head deeper into the cushions.

I go over to the bed again and sit on the edge. I shake James again. "Time for breakfast."

That does the trick. James opens his eyes and looks towards me. "Breakfast?"

This child can eat constantly. One could get the impression that we let him starve, as eager as he is with everything to eat that he can lay his hands on.

Before Louisa is back from the bathroom I managed to get James dressed. Strangely enough, his clothes are neatly placed in his room. Only my things seem to hide from me.

When I return to our room, Louisa is drying her hair with a towel.

"I haven't found the shopping bag. Give me my things and then I can take a shower."

"Uhm…eh…" Louisa is humming and hawing. She stops rubbing her hair and looks at me. "Well, why don't you just have your shower? I've put a razor and shaving cream on the shelf in the bathroom. I'll lay out the things for you for when you're finished."

"I'd rather change into something fresh immediately." I add, by now quite concerned about the contents of the bag.

"Sorry." Louisa is shrugging her shoulders.

I do trot off, fearing the worst.

_To be continued…_


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

I return to our room, still with nothing more to wear than these stupid boxer shorts, but freshly shaved and clean.

James is in his room and Louisa dresses herself. There are several items laid out on the bed. None of which I would normally regard as my clothes.

"Louisa, you had your joke last night." I grumble. "I went along with it. It wasn't funny then, it's not funny now. So give me my clothes."

What I see are Union Jack socks, boxer shorts with the Union Jack, and to make matters worse even the outline of Britain, and a blue and red chequered shirt. Combined with my suit I wore yesterday, I'd look downright silly.

"Martin." Louisa softly says and looks at me with concern.

"I don't want any explanation, I want decent clothes! You told me you'd take care of it! You told me not to worry!" My voice cracks slightly. This is just about as much as I can take.

"Please don't get upset. Let me explain."

"I _do not_ want any explanation. Just…" I say through clenched teeth.

"Well, right." Louisa crosses her arms in defiance. "No explanation. Then I have nothing more to say except – wear this!" She throws the shirt into my face that I've worn yesterday, and the day before. It lands exactly in my face and I can't shrug it off quickly enough.

"Ugh!" This is really disgusting.

"What are you complaining about now – it's your pristine white shirt!" Louisa bristles.

"It stinks."

"Sure it does. It has the sweat of two continents on it, but it's still better than what I got for you. Right?!"

"I just don't understand how you could do this to me! You told me the things for today weren't like last night's boxer shorts."

"I just said they'd be different. They are."

"But if anything, they're worse!"

"Martin, I really tried to get something decent…"

"_That's_ what you call decent?!"

"…_BUT," _Louisa continues, "only the gift shop was still open. They do stock socks and boxer shorts and such, and I thought it's better than nothing. Besides, I can't remember anyone ever seeing your underwear except for James and me since we've been together."

"But in case of an accident, what would the paramedics think!" The thought is horrifying.

"_If_ you'd have an accident, there are dozens of things I'd be worried about, but the least of them would be your underwear. And so would the paramedics."

"But…" I try to stand my ground, which is not very solid at the moment, I have to admit.

"_But_…" Louisa picks up without giving me the chance to say anything. "you are welcome to the stuff you wore yesterday. Your choice."

It's not really what I call a choice. Well, maybe between pest and cholera.

I sigh. I suppose there is nothing to be done about the underwear. Begrudgingly I have to admit, that no one will probably notice. The only problem is that I do know about it. However, there is still the matter of this unspeakable shirt.

"And you got this probably from a fancy dress shop." I pick the package with the shirt up and hold it at arms lengths. "I'm astonished that you didn't get me a Three Lions shirt."

"Oh, you'd prefer one of those? If I had known that, it could have saved me a lot of running around. I just thought that nothing they had in the gift shop could even remotely be acceptable for you. They also do jerseys and T-shirts."

"And you thought _this_ is acceptable?"

"At least it was the best I could do!" Louisa shouts desperately. Then she sighs. She rubs her nose. A bit calmer she continues. "Look, I am really sorry, and I really tried to get something else. Problem is, all the other shops were closed or didn't have shirts and no one around has your size, not even remotely. You simply stand out by inches. The only one I could think of was Mr. Gibson. Maybe you don't know him, he's extremely healthy. He's teaching martial arts at the leisure centre."

I do remember him, but I remember his daughter even more vividly. Ghastly affair. Scared the life out of me. I have to admit that he acted quite decent. However, I can't second his taste for shirts.

"Yes." I signal that I know who we are talking about.

"So I went to him, asking if he might have some unused shirts. I hoped he might have something white or such. The best he could do was this one and another one, which had a green and red pattern. I doubted that you'd prefer that so I opted for this one. At least it's still in its original package, so you can be sure he hasn't worn it before."

"I wonder why."

"I can tell you why. He just bought it last week. He even was kind enough not to accept any money. I told him about your trouble with the luggage and he said I could have it."

"I bet he was glad to get rid of it."

"No, Martin, he just said you were always a decent bloke and he'd be glad to help. He also said something about you having had enough trouble because of Melanie and that might make up for it. I don't know what that was all about?" She cocks her head. If she doesn't know, she won't learn it from me.

"So he wants to help me to look absolutely ridiculous with this outrageous pattern on the shirt?"

"Actually, Martin, I think it is quite a normal shirt. Nothing you would wear, normally, of course, but the average man wouldn't think too much of it, I'd say."

"You call this pattern _normal?!"_

"Uhm…actually, I do. I know lots of fellows with shirts like this."

"So do I. But that doesn't make this shirt _normal_, nor the people wearing them!"

"Martin," Louisa's voice is calm but firm, "I don't intend to argue about this the whole morning. You've got two options. Either you wear your own, sweaty things, or you compromise on my shopping, which is at least fresh. Your choice. Now, I'll have a look what James is doing and pack his things."

_To be continued…_


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

When Louisa returns to our room, I am just straightening my tie, still grumbling about this ridiculous outfit. When she enters, I see her bemused look.

"Don't you dare laugh at me. This is all your fault!"

Louisa chuckles. "And the airline's. Honestly, you're quite a sight."

"Thanks a lot. I know it's ridiculous! The shirt doesn't go at all with the tie. With _any_ tie, I'd say!"

"I very much doubt that this shirt was planned to be worn with a tie." Louisa smiles. She stands in front of me and tilts her head left and right.

"What?"

"Oh Martin, even you must have noticed that most men don't wear ties when they don't have to professionally. It is commonly known as _casual_."

"Nonsense."

"For you, maybe." Louisa's takes a step back and is still assessing me. "I think…", she steps closer again and reaches for the tie, "it wouldn't look quite as bad without the tie and the coat."

"What, undress, you mean?!"

"No, Martin, I don't mean you should be stripping, just leave the tie and coat today. They are making this outfit really horrid. Besides," she brushes my coat, "this has seen better days, too. It could do with a good cleaning."

I look at her completely gobsmacked. She can't mean that.

Louisa starts undoing my tie. I try to stop her, but when I reach for the knot, she gives my hand a slight slap. "Trust me." She whispers.

I did that yesterday with my clothes and look where that led us.

She removes my tie and throws it back on the bed, then she unbuttons my coat.

"Get it off." She says.

"Why?"

"It'll look better. The grey trousers are going with the shirt quite nicely. It's the coat that simply doesn't go with the shirt."

"I can't go out without a coat." I simply don't understand.

"Why not?"

"_Why_ _not_?!" I can't understand the question. This is how a man dresses – trousers, shirt, tie and coat. On official occasions sometimes a vest.

"Today it is certainly warm enough to go without a coat. Besides, you'll be decent enough. And you have the weekend off, so you're off-duty. So – why not?"

I don't know how I can make her understand. She walks behind me and tugs my coat off. It lands on top of my tie on the bed.

Louisa then inspects me again.

"That'll do." She declares. "Not that bad at all."

"You're joking." I sigh.

"Not your usual style," Louisa continues, "but apart from that it's really OK. Except maybe…"

"Oh goody, another bright idea." I hope this day comes to an end soon and I'm back home, with the comfort of my wardrobe.

Louisa steps towards me and fingers at the top button, which is quickly undone. Then she takes a step backwards.

"Now you're ready to go. Come on." She heads towards the door, waving towards me to follow her.

"I can't go out like this?!" I can't believe she's serious. I mean, the shirt with the suit was bad enough, but now I'm not even completely dressed.

"You can and you will."

"At least let me put on the coat." I try to grab it.

"No." Louisa orders me firmly.

I finger for the top button of the shirt to do that right, at least.

"Leave it." Louisa warns me. "I don't want to be seen with you if you look as ridiculous as you did before I fixed it. Now it's alright. For _every_ man it's alright now. Not perfect, I admit, but _alright_." She has reached the door. "And now, breakfast."

_To be continued…_


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

I am standing in the door and suddenly I am not hungry anymore. Where a hole was minutes ago is just a knot, a massive one. I'm sure I can't stomach a thing. I haven't even reached the landing when I stop. Louisa looks at me.

"What?"

"Uhm…I am not hungry." I see her brow rise, doubting my words. "Honestly I'm not. I think…" My brain seeks feverishly for an excuse not to go downstairs. "…I…I could pack."

I turn on my heels to retreat to the sanctuary of our room before anyone sees me.

"Martin," Louisa's stern voice is calling me, "you must eat something."

"I'm fine." I answer quickly and firmly. I'd rather starve to death than to be seen in this shirt.

"You are coming here immediately." Louisa orders me, but I am hesitant. "Now!"

I disappear into the room. Louisa follows me.

"Martin, I understand that you do feel uncomfortable."

I glower at her. Whose fault is that, exactly? I know Louisa has a strange sense of humour sometimes, but this is not funny. Not in the least.

"It's just that you're not used to it, is all." She tugs at my shirt. "You really do look good."

I don't believe a word. This is ridiculous. Maybe it could pass on wrong trousers day.

"Don't look at me like that." Louisa is still doing her best to persuade me that everything's fine when nothing is. "I know it is hard to shake habits you've had all of your life. I bet you wore suits since the beginning of prep school."

What else does she think I have been wearing?

Louisa rubs my arm. "Look, I don't know your plans for today, but maybe not so many people will see us at all. So no harm done. As soon as we come home tonight, we can bin all of it."

"You bet."

Louisa smiles. "Or better still, I'll give it to a charity."

"Don't you think it's bad enough to be poor? Do you have to make them look ridiculous on top of things?"

"As I keep saying, you're still looking smart. It really isn't half as bad as you might think it is."

"This," I say through clenched teeth, "is the worst outfit I've ever had. Even scrubs are better than this!"

"It might be the most casual you've ever had, but still." Louisa interlocks arms with me. "We are going downstairs now to get some breakfast, and you stop worrying about this. After all, it's just a shirt."

Louisa drags me onto the landing again, just in time for us to run into James who has come out of his room.

"Cool, Daddy," he beams at me, "you really look like a Dad now, not like a Doc."

Louisa squeezes my arm and whispers. "See?"

"What?" I do not understand my son's comment at all.

"The other boy's dads, when they are having fun, they look more like that. Less stuffed."

"Stuffed?!" I can't believe my son's views on normal menswear.

"Yeah." James beams at me and takes my free hand. I hear Louisa chuckle, obviously happy with herself.

I cannot help but accompany my family downstairs. I feel like I'm about to go into a dragon's den.

Ruth and Al are already sitting at the kitchen table when we arrive. Al looks up, stops chewing for a moment and then greets us: "Mornin' Doc, Louisa."

He keeps looking towards us and I wish the ground would open up and swallow me.

Ruth keeps chewing but smirks at me. Definitely.

"We've started without you." She says. "We couldn't wait until you'd finished dressing up." She nods towards me. "I see you've opted for _rural charm_."

Louisa, who hadn't let my arm go, cuddles closer demonstratively. "A handsome man can wear everything and still look smart." She declares.

Ruth looks up, obviously endlessly bemused. I bet she didn't know what that had to do with me. Neither do I.

"If you say so. Your father," she is definitely addressing me now, "always held his respect for the dressing code high. There should be a visible difference between the working classes and us. Levelling the standard is neither good for them nor for us. However, when in Rome…" She waves her hand vaguely in the air.

I feel my hackle rise. I have been accused of many things during my lifetime, but not that I don't know how to dress. This is another all time low. I want to run a mile, but Louisa still clings at me.

"Ruth," she scolds my aunt and I fear the worst. Ruth isn't used to being talked back to. "Martin did lose his luggage, as you well know, so we had to improvise. He does look good enough for me. Can we drop this subject and have some breakfast. I bet Martin could do with a strong brew."

Al jumps up. "Coffee's comin'." He pours some coffee into a mug and places it before me. "Sorry, not the sort of stuff you're used to, but good enough for us in the country." He looks demonstratively at Ruth who just rolls her eyes. I've got an inkling that by now Ruth indeed is used to some contradiction. Al seems to stand his ground in his own way.

He enquires what we like for breakfast and serves us quickly and efficiently.

"So, Doc, how's it to be back here? Missed the old coast?" Al tries trivial conversation, but I'm not sure if he just does it to get away from more dangerous grounds that my aunt might be heading for.

"Uhm." I'm never quite sure how to react on two questions asked at once. I like the conversation progressing in a clear order.

Louisa, however, picks up as she often does. Even when I am clearly addressed, she has the habit of answering instead if I don't react immediately. I don't really mind.

"Oh, it's just beautiful to be back. James," she ruffles his hair as if she had to prove who James is, "couldn't remember being here before. He was awfully young when we moved, so it was _so_ nice to show him all the places. And he loved it, especially the sea, didn't you James?"

James is munching his toast and his attempt to answer results in little crumbs of bread falling on the tablecloth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full". I remind him sternly. "Ah, look at that mess!"

He swallows the content of his mouth and now, without any food in his mouth, apologizes meekly. "Sorry, Dad."

Aunt Ruth seems bemused. "I'm relieved to see you've been teaching him _some_ manners."

"Jamie is a very good boy. We are very lucky to have him!" Louisa shouts back.

"Oh, how _nice_ for you." Whatever Ruth says, there is always a hard edge in her tone that makes you wonder what she really means. I guess I'd prefer her to keep her opinion to herself. "You're really giving the impression of a nice little family this morning."

Unfortunately, Ruth _doesn't_ keep her opinion to herself, but feels the need to spread it like the plague.

"We _are_ a happy family." Louisa shoots back.

"As long as you get what you want." Ruth adds between two bites of toast. "Really, my dear, did you ever think of Martin's needs?"

"It's none of your business!" I exclaim quite irritated.

"If you want to make the point of how much Martin is sacrificing with this move, I sure do know that. I can also promise you, that he won't regret it." Louisa is in fighting mood. Nevertheless, she emphasizes the last words while reaching for my knee under the table and squeezing it. "I promise you, he'll be very happy."

I almost choke on my coffee.

"Interesting." My aunt declares very highbrow.

Al leans forward and asks hastily: "Do you want anything more, Doc?"

I grunt at him. Really, will this innuendo go on like this?

"Coffee!" Al shouts. "Coffee's what I meant. Honest, Doc. Or maybe some more toast?"

"Thank you, I had quite enough." I growl.

"Sorry, Doc." Al mumbles and I nod. He is normally a good sort, so maybe he really didn't mean to add fuel to the fire.

"By the way," Al asks tentatively, "when's your train going? I could take you. No trouble at all."

"Yes, Martin," Louisa turns towards me, "when are we going back."

"He's just _full of surprises_ this weekend, isn't he?" My aunt sneers.

"Uhm, I booked the train at half past five from Bodmin Parkway. I wasn't sure if we'd need some time today. The booking is transferable, though."

"But we could also spend the day here?" Louisa asks, and the sound of her voice makes it clear what she'd prefer.

"Cool!" James exclaims, and his eyes are glistening.

"Right." I say.

_To be continued…_


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

And so it is.

It didn't take long to decide how we would spend the day when we were back in our room.

My son immediately squeaked: "Can we go to the sea? _Pleaaase?_"

Louisa immediately thought of a _nice little cove_ where most probably no one would be around except for us. "_Wouldn't that be romantic_?"

I did grunt and that was taken as an affirmation. Louisa pecked my cheek. Then she beamed at me. "Picnic!"

"What?"

"We'll go for a picnic! I bet James will _love_ it!"

"What's the point? We've just eaten."

"You can't have a perfect day at the beach without a picnic. Besides, before we head towards London, we'll have to eat something anyway. I'll take care of that!"

Louisa has hardly finished her declaration, when she was already out of the room and probably on her way to the kitchen.

I sigh and sit down on the bed. I don't care that my trousers are probably spoiling the duvet. Aunt Ruth should change the cover anyway before someone else uses the bed. A picnic. Great. Exactly what I need. Everything to keep them happy.

Why can't my family have normal interests, like the Science Museum, the Greenwich Observatory or even the National Gallery? There are so many interesting things to be seen in London, but all they want to do is sit on dirty sand at a windy beach in Cornwall and eat cold food.

My son is running around like mad, mumbling something about what to take to the beach. Then he runs back towards me and tugs at my sleeve, as I'm still sitting motionless on the bed, staring into thin air.

By instinct I pad his head. "What is it, James?"

"Uhm, can I build sandcastles just like that or what do I need?" James is biting his lip and looks at me with big eyes.

Wearily, I get up. "I have no idea." I sigh.

"But when you built a sandcastle…"

"I don't build sandcastles, I have never built a sandcastle and I don't intend to build a sandcastle. Ask your mother."

James' face brightens up. "Right. You're sure she knows?" James' brow furrows.

"I bet she does. That's the kind of thing she always knows."

"Great." He runs towards the door calling his Mummy.

"Stay." I say sternly. "She has the funny idea of a picnic and is busy preparing who-knows-what for it."

"Are picnics fun?" James asks.

"That's a good question. A _very _good question."

There's nothing left to do for me than to stay in our room to wait for Louisa while trying to humour James. I could go down to help her, but I'm sure I'll just be in the way. Besides, my nerves wouldn't welcome an encounter with my sarcastic aunt and my enthusiastic partner at the same time. So I stay put.

I let James sit next to me on the bed and tell him about the animals and flowers he can expect to see at the Cornish beach this time of year.

It doesn't take too long before I hear Louisa coming up the stairs. When she storms into the room she is beaming and starts rummaging around.

"Did you and Jamie get along? Did Daddy entertain you, young man? Oh, really Martin, your Aunt Ruth is really a hard nut to crack." Louisa keeps prattling on. There is no chance that I could answer any of the questions without interrupting her, so I assume that no answer is expected.

"She didn't think much of our idea of a picnic."

_Our idea?_

Louisa turns around shortly. "Can you imagine that she doesn't even have a picnic basket? Or at least something that we could use for that purpose." She swishes around again to pick up various things and putting them hither and thither.

_Good._

"But don't you worry. Al's taken care of it."

_Gawd!_

Louisa turns around again. "You know, I think he's really got everything under control. That's one thing your aunt was absolutely right about. He's born to be organising things."

Louisa comes over and squats in front of James, who is still sitting next to me on the bed. "So we can have our picnic after all." She looks over to me. "Food's ready so far, just needs to be packed. Ruth didn't even have a thermos flask, but you can't have a picnic without tea, can you?"

_I sure don't know._

"But Al is also taking care of that. He offered to make the tea, too. Nice of him."

Louisa straightens up.

"Actually, your aunt was less helpful. She argued about everything. Do you know what she said when I told her about the picnic?"

_No, but I bet you'll tell me in a moment._

"She thought the idea was bonkers. '_Oh, goody. Martin always loved eating al fresco: ants, bees, flies. He will simply love it_.' What does _she _know?! She didn't even care when I pointed out that ants and bees are not such a great problem at the beach, especially not when it's windy like now."

I have to admit that my aunt wasn't too far off the mark. Actually, for me there are only few meals worse than a picnic, maybe a BBQ with nice coaled fat meat, but I don't have the heart to tell Louisa this. I also don't care what kind of animals I'm sharing my meal with. I find them all disgusting. Seagulls and crabs are not better at all. However, I am sure I will survive it, as well as I'll survive the move to Portwenn.

Louisa is rummaging about some more, throws a few things into her ubiquitous handbag before finally coming to a halt. She stands in the middle of the room and looks around. "I guess we have everything we need now."

"Transport." I say.

"What?"

"How do we get to this _nice_ _cosy cove_? My car is in London."

"We walk. It's just a few miles. Just around the corner, really. It'll be marvellous! The weather seems to be fine, too, today." Louisa's cranes her neck to look out of the window.

Great. I _love_ walking. A few miles? How much is exactly _a few_?

Louisa obviously sees my worried expression. "Come on, who preaches about the benefits of physical exercise all the time? Hm? So come on!"

I heave myself up. Soon I'll find myself carrying a basket covered by a blanket, which Louisa has forced into my hand during a short stop in the kitchen. We are walking the coastal path again and only Louisa knows our destination.

_To be continued…_


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Finally we reach a steep footpath leading down to a tiny cove. I bet you'd need to be local to find the way down, because bushes hide it quite well. In London, I'd almost forgotten how steep the Cornish hills could be. I am struggling a bit to get down safely as the soles of my leather shoes are made for big city pavements and not for mountaineering. What's more, Louisa and I also have to make sure that James isn't too boisterous on his way downhill. He is quite excited.

As soon as we reach the sand and let James loose, he is drawn to the sea like a magnet to metal. He runs into the water, and then tries to escape the waves breaking on shore. So he's running to and fro without any sense.

Louisa breathes in deeply. Her hair is again tied up in a ponytail, which swishes gently when she abruptly turns towards me.

"So let's get ourselves comfortable."

"Why, are we going back?"

"No, silly." Louisa laughs, then continues in a stern tone. "If you try to ruin this, I warn you. You won't stand a chance. I will be enjoying myself. Come hell or high water."

"Hm." I look towards James still chasing the waves. "Speaking of high water…"

"I checked the tides. We'll be fine."

"You…?"

"Local girl. One of the first things you learn around here. Always check the tides."

Louisa grabs the rug from the basket. "This is a nice spot, don't you think?"

For me, one stretch of sand is as disgusting as the next one. "I…"

"Purely rhetorical question." Louisa cocks her head while spreading the rug over the sand. "Put the basket down, you don't have to hold onto it for dear life."

"Uhm…right. And now?"

"Sit down." I look down at the rug uncomfortably. "The sand won't bite you"

So I sit down, only separated from the dirty sand and droppings from who-knows-what by an itchy blanket. I don't know where to put my legs, as they seem to be in the way whatever I do. There is no dignified way to hold yourself when sitting on the ground. I try it with my legs tucked up, but that doesn't really work. I try to stretch the legs out completely, but that's uncomfortable for the back. An attempt to sit cross-legged is quickly abolished as it hinders my blood flow.

Louisa, meanwhile, has sat down with ease, propped up on one arm, and watches me bemused.

"You're really not used to picnics."

"The last time I had to go on one was with Aunty Joan – and I was eleven!"

"Ah, so not all hope is lost. Maybe we can dig up some long lost memories. Apropos digging…I have a surprise for James Henry." She gets up with grace and looks down on my futile attempts to sit comfortably

"Try to lie down, maybe that'll work better. I bet James would love to build a sandcastle." She bends down to get something out of a bag she was carrying. "I'm so glad I picked these up in the gift shop yesterday, thinking they might come handy one day."

Louisa waves a tiny plastic bag in front of me complete with a bucket, a shovel, some moulds and other plastic items. "I suppose I can't tempt you?" Louisa's raises an eyebrow.

"Gawd, no!" I exclaim.

"Thought so. Okay." She looks over to our son who is still happy enough chasing waves and fishing in the sea for who-knows-what. "Maybe we can spend some time together, before I teach Jamie the high art of coastal construction work."

Louisa joins me on the rug, lying on her side, propped up on her elbow.

"Try it this way, that's the most comfortable position, really."

I grunt. "This is a beach, not a bedroom."

"And it isn't a dining room, either, but we'll have our meal here later." Louisa lifts herself up to cup my face. "You'll have to learn to think outside the box. Not everything is as straightforward as you'd prefer it to be."

Louisa is sitting next to me now, slightly brushing my cheek with her hand. She brings her mouth closer to my ear and whispers: "In a way it's a shame that James is with us today, or I could show you what else you can do on a beach."

I feel myself blush, as I know the sound of Louisa's voice and it brings up some rather x-rated memories. I gulp.

Louisa draws back, looks at me and laughs out loud.

"You would never! Not here!" I gasp.

Louisa gently puts her palms against my chest and pushes me gently back into a more laid back position. She is towering over me. "You just wait. When we've moved back here, make a note in your diary for the first night with a full moon."

"Whatever for?!" I ask alarmed.

"Use your imagination." Louisa whispers. She herself uses her fingers to play with my hair. She is raking through it and tugs at it gently. I try to fight it, but she is turning me on and her lips right above me aren't helping to get my hormones under control.

"What? How?!" I stammer. I hate this habit of mine that I start to stutter if I'm struggling to keep my composure.

"Just wait and see. " Louisa purrs. "I'll just give you three hints: candlelight, sea and me."

Louisa kisses me gently on the lips, and although her touch is light, my elbows on which I have been resting, give in and I land on my back with a plop.

Louisa draws back smiling. "Now that you're comfortable I can leave you to relax a bit, can't I? James and I have a castle to build. I won't be too long."

Louisa doesn't really wait for an answer. Needless to say, James is absolutely over the moon that his mummy had brought all the necessary tools to build a sandcastle plus the necessary expertise.

I roll onto my side, propped up on my elbow. My legs are stretching out of the rug, but the trousers are ruined from yesterday's walk anyway. Maybe Louisa is starting to have an effect on me as I shrug it off for the first time in my life.

I watch Louisa and James attending their business. They are obviously having a good time and Louisa explains to our son a lot, although I don't know what there is to know about pushing sand into a mould and turning it upside down. Louisa just turns around and waves at me. I nod in response and she is soon engrossed in mixing sand and water.

I don't know how she wants to eat anything later after getting her hands dirty with sea water and sand. I look over to the basket and decide that I do not want to know what's in there.

I contemplate what I could do, but there is absolutely nothing that can be done, so I keep watching my family, listening to the waves breaking on the surrounding rocks. I can feel the wind and the sun. From time to time, a giggle or a laugh makes me smile.

"I told you he'll react." I hear Louisa's voice like in a distance. James giggles.

"But how does he know when his eyes are closed?"

"I know your Daddy. His sense of smell is very good."

"Even when he is sleeping?" James asks, and I like to protest that I am certainly not sleeping. However, I can't form any words to prove it, nor can I manage to open my eyes. So my foggy brain has to agree reluctantly that I indeed have dozed off.

Smell? I try to concentrate on what I can smell, and there is Louisa's perfume, the sea breeze, wet sand and something fruity.

Now there's a light touch on my lips of something soft. It just dips onto my mouth and is gone at the same moment. I hear James giggle right next to me. I lick my lips.

"See." Louisa says. "He's almost with us now."

I force my eyes open. I see a strawberry dangling right above me, then Louisa's face and above that – flowers?!

I close my eyes again. When I open them I expect to see the blue sky or clouds, but the flowers are still there.

The strawberry approaches me. Louisa practically stuffs the fruit into my mouth. "Two hungry sandy architects report for picnic." She smiles.

"What's that?" I point upwards while I feel the juice of the strawberry dripping from my mouth. I try to reach for my handkerchief, but my last remaining one is in my coat and therefore lies on the bed at Ruth's farm.

"Wait." Louisa dabs my mouth clean. "Oh, that you mean." She points upwards. "I noticed that you fell asleep and that you were roasting in the sun. So James and I built some sort of shelter for you."

"A what?"

James jumps in to explain. "Mummy told me to look for branches. You know, from some of the bushes around here. Really _large_ branches. Then we ripped them off and dug them really deep into the sand next to you."

"Last I put my cardigan over it, and your sun-protection was finished." Louisa concludes. I look into two very content faces beaming above me and I can feel my mouth forming a little smile. However, I have realised by now that others often don't register that smile. It seems, for me it is more of a feeling rather than an action.

"Good."

"You see, I told you he'd be happy." Louisa tousles James' hair.

"But you?" I don't know how I could have forgotten about sun protection.

"I've got this sun lotion from Mrs. Tishell's yesterday. Don't you worry, your family was well protected. I just didn't want to wake you in smearing the lotion all over you. Believe me, since you showed me the pictures in your dermatological book, I don't want to take any risk with UV rays anymore."

I sigh relieved. I try to prop myself up on my elbows, but something's not right. My lower part feels warm and damp and somehow stiff. I look down at me and see that from my waist down my body disappears in a huge sandy hill.

_To be continued…_


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

"What the heck?!" I shout.

James looks timidly towards me, then to Louisa. As soon as she starts laughing, my son joins in, leaving me baffled.

"This is not funny." I snarl. I really try to keep my temper, but in moments like this I really have a hard time not to explode. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"Actually, James saw it on TV once. He thought it would be fun." Louisa explains.

"So why didn't you stop him?!"

"That's what Daddies do at the beach." I am informed.

"Well…_maybe_…" I say through clenched teeth, really doing my best to stay as calm as I can, "but not if they have a four hours train ride ahead of them and no spare trousers to change into!"

Louisa looks at James again and starts to giggle.

"Sorry. I'll brush them as well as I can." Louisa promises.

"It's absolutely hopeless. They're ruined."

"Oh, come off it. They had to go to the dry cleaners anyhow."

"Besides, the accumulation of heat underneath the sand can have a disadvantageous effect on certain… uhum… organs."

Louisa bends over me and caresses my hair. "I didn't think of that. I would have never taken the risk that you won't be in top shape tonight."

"What's tonight?" James is a bit too curious for my liking.

"Nothing. Bed." I answer curtly.

James' brow furrows. "Why do you have to be in top shape for bed?"

"Don't worry about that." I tell him rather brusquely, I have to admit, "Maybe you'd better get me out of here."

"Oh, sure, coming Daddy." My son picks up his little shovel.

"Rescue team on duty." Louisa mockingly salutes to him.

I could just kick myself free, I suppose, but then the sand would be all over the rug. So I am subject to a rescue operation with my son with his shovel and Louisa with bare hands digging me out of what seems to be half of the Gobi desert.

In moments like this I realise the devilish streak Louisa has. Digging underneath the sand to free my lower parts, she quite freely takes advantage of me. I have to compose myself and have to endure the rubbing and squeezing without reacting too obviously, as James is just next to me. I suppose Louisa wants to make sure that I am exactly in the right mood when we come home and is already hinting towards which mood she wants me to be in.

I glower at her and she starts to giggle.

"It's fun." James squeals.

"It sure is." Louisa agrees ominously.

"Wait until we get home." I mouth silently.

"I can hardly wait." She mouths back.

"Look, Daddy's smiling!" James shouts ecstatically. He jumps up and jumps around, shouting out over and over again. "Daddy's smiling!"

Louisa uses this opportunity to bring her mouth close to my ear. "Leering is more like it, you Dark Horse."

"What did you expect….?!"

"Nothing less, nothing less…" Louisa runs her hand over my chest.

"Now get me out of here, or I will be stewed in my own juices."

"You're getting hot, are you?"

"Stop it!"

"Maybe you're right, maybe we should leave that for later."

I am quickly freed from my sandy imprisonment now. My trousers however, look a mess. I try to pat them as clean as possible. Louisa takes her own amusement out of making sure that my backside is '_really clean'_. It seems a tendency for chastising comes with her job.

Finally we can have our picnic. Louisa is complaining that no Cornish picnic is complete without splits and Clotted Cream, but that Ruth failed to deliver on that front.

"Imagine, a Cornish farm _without _Clotted Cream. It's a sacrilege, really." Louisa complains. I can only agree with my aunt as Clotted Cream should be legally forbidden, as well as other high fat products.

Thankfully, Ruth, being a doctor herself, knows about the hazards of unhealthy food and no matter how long Louisa might have looked for something unhealthy to bring, this picnic meets the minimum requirements of nutritional value.

There are chicken sandwiches, Egg and Cress sandwiches and Cucumber sandwiches. Furthermore, we have several kinds of fruit, mainly what you can find on the farm at this time of year. So the summer berries should serve to keep the sweet tooth of Louisa and James happy without unfavourably affecting their BMI.

Louisa starts telling us about her childhood, when she would spend days at the beach or up in the moors with a friend of hers. As her friend lived on one of the farms on Bodmin Moor, they always had a pot of milk over a fire to produce their own Clotted Cream. She revels in her memories of her childhood picnics and how rich they had been.

If Louisa really had a diet like that as a kid, she either had a weight problem, quite a lot of exercise or a very poor metabolism. Just listening to all the indulgences makes me sick.

James, on the other hand, is absolutely stunned.

"You mean you had something like this all the time?!"

"Maybe not all the time," Louisa assures James, "but quite often. Almost every weekend in the summer, really."

"Cool."

"And we can have this, too, as soon as we're down here." She nods towards our son who beams like a cat who has stolen the milk.

"Can we, Daddy?"

"We'll see." I hate the idea of making a habit of wasting a day sitting in the sand and I'm dreading the thought of what Louisa will take for a picnic if she has her choice. On the other hand, I can see how happy Louisa and James are, and the whole purpose of moving back here is to make them happy.

"_Pleaaaase!"_ James is already begging for more.

Louisa puts her hand on my thigh. "I'm sure we can find a way to make us all happy. Your Dad and I will figure something out." She looks at me and I nod.

"See, James. Don't worry, it won't be your last picnic."

"But I object to being buried alive again." I add. James looks towards his mother and both start to giggle.

Louisa leans onto my shoulder. "Don't worry. That was a one off. Promise."

Just now, the alarm from my smart phone informs me that it is time for us to go.

_To be continued…_


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

We're back at Bodmin Parkway. The train to London is due in ten minutes.

Al has taken us to the station and offered to wait until it comes. However, I suggested he goes back to his duties as soon as possible. Louisa looked sadly towards me, but she agreed finally. I simply don't like the company of all and sundry. I never know what to say and how to act. I have come to appreciate the company of my family, but even Louisa realised that this is as far as I can go.

Al didn't hold it against me either, I suppose. If anyone in this village ever respected my privacy, then it was Al. I remember fondly how he dissolved the group of villagers trying to invade Louisa's cottage the moment we brought James home from hospital.

Louisa told me afterwards, not without an accusation of me being unreasonable, that the villagers only meant well. Louisa and I always see things differently when it comes to social interaction. Louisa says it's because I am socially challenged and that I don't like people. The same accusation was made by my late Aunty Joan. I always thought they were wrong and their view was tainted by living in the same damned village. However, seeing Louisa interact in London and realising how many people agree with her rather than me, I tend to admit that maybe I really do see things differently than most people.

Nevertheless, I still can't see any reasonable explanation for invading new parents after a painful birth and a stressful morning and to risk agitating the sleeping new-born.

I remember that day. I had scolded Louisa before the birth that she didn't realise how much the birth of our son would change her life. Little I did know then how much it would change mine. I wouldn't have dreamt how this day turned my whole life upside down and influenced who I am now.

Just this moment, Louisa is leaning against my shoulder, putting her arm around my waist. I can't remember when we've ever shared intimacy in public rather than a few times when she's held my hand or a few times she's pecked my cheek. That's why Louisa was so puzzled when we met at Paddington two days ago when I actually pecked _her_ on the cheek and tried to hug her. Gosh, was that really only two days ago? It seems like a lifetime. Now Louisa is more bold, almost possessively demonstrating that we're together. As we are the only people on the platform, I don't mind. Maybe I can even get used to it.

"Feeling more comfortable now?" Louisa smiles up at me.

"Uhm…rather." I say.

Louisa had a surprise for me when we got back to Ruth's farm to pick up our things. Before we had left for the picnic, she had asked Al if he could give my shirt a quick wash and ironing so that I could use it when we came back.

So, on our arrival at the farm, my white shirt lay on the bed in a state that it was vaguely usable. I mean, it still was a bit damp and Al will never win a contest for the best ironing in Cornwall, but it still was ten times better than the red and blue chequered shirt I was wearing.

So I am wearing the same shirt I did yesterday sans sweat. The coat wasn't in such a bad state, so I can wear it, too. The only price I had to pay is to do without the tie. Louisa demanded it as a reward that she had saved me from being seen in this shirt in London. It was a comparatively small compromise.

"This is the nicest day we've ever spent together, don't you think?" Louisa sighs.

"Hm."

"What?" Louisa asks a bit irritated.

"No, it's…fine."

"Fine?" She asks amused. "I bet you'd be lost in conversation if you couldn't use '_fine'_, '_right_' or _'I see'_."

"I…"

"Never mind. I've got used to it and don't want to have it any other way."

I look down to her and she looks up at me.

"But something's bothering you." She states. "You're worrying about your future?"

"Hm."

"Robert will understand. I'm sure they don't want to lose you. Brilliant as you are, they will find a place for you."

"We'll see."

"And I will take care that you're not bothered too much by the villagers after we've moved back. I know how you prefer your privacy. Well, Al learned that too, just now." She sighs. "So our home will be _our_ home. If I want to meet people, I can visit them. So you can have your peace and quiet."

"Like the Oakwoods." I remind her.

"Oh, them!" Louisa exclaims. "No, _definitely_ not like the Oakwoods. But it wasn't only my fault. I know someone who just sneaked away without doing anything about them."

"They were visiting y_ou_."

"Pestering more like it. I could have done with some help, but don't you worry, I've learned a couple of things over the years, too."

"Good."

"Which Oaktrees?" James croaks, who is sitting on my shoulders.

It was easier to pick him up and carry him than to let him walk. When we left Al's car, Louisa and I had James between us, each holding one of his hands. James, however, didn't want to go to the station. He was fretful and tried to fall behind. So it was more like us dragging him forward rather than James walking towards the station.

Warning him didn't help, so I took the easiest solution in just picking him up and carrying him on my shoulders.

"Not _Oaktree, _Oakwood. They were neighbours of your mum when we first…uhm…met."

"Will they be ours neighbours, too?"

"Goodness, no!" I exclaim. "They moved out of the village. They had a son. Sam. He was so ill-behaved that the police came for him. The villagers also noticed him, in a bad way. So the family had to move away."

"Whew. That's harsh." James looks worried and I use the opportunity to work on his manners.

"You see. This village doesn't tolerate any misbehaviour. So if you really want to live here, you've got to be a good boy."

"Martin!" Louisa scolds me. "You're frightening him."

"It's worth a try." I mumble, and Louisa nudges my side with her elbow.

"You'll be fine here." Louisa sabotages my attempt to make James Henry try his best. "You've seen how nice the Fenn twins have been to you yesterday. Everyone liked you here. And I guess you liked it here, too."

"I love it! I don't want to go back to stinking London." James is complaining.

"Jamie." Louisa has far more understanding for him than I have. "We do have to go home. Mummy will have to wait until her post as head teacher is confirmed. Then Daddy has to sort out where he can work. We also have to find a new home for us to live. Last but not least, you couldn't just disappear from London without saying good-bye to your friends."

"My friends are Denis and Alex, and they are here!" James declares defiantly.

"That's not true." Louisa scolds our son. "What about the other kids from your playing group? You have a lot of friends there."

"Not like Denis and Alex. They are…fun." James is grumbling.

"Nevertheless, we have to sort things out in London first, and then we can live here for the rest of our lives. That'll be good. Now, be a good boy and be reasonable. Look, our train is coming."

_To be continued…_


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

We're on our way back to London. It's early evening and my little family is knackered after this exiting, so important weekend. James has snuggled into his seat and is sleeping peacefully. Even during these short two days, he has gained colour and he looks very healthy with his blonde hair tousled over his tanned face.

I look over and I suppose a smile creeps over my face. I have to be careful not to move, as Louisa's head is resting against my shoulder. She has fallen asleep and is lightly snoring. I feel her warmth against my right side and it doesn't only warm my body, but it soothes and warms me inside as well. I try to stay as motionless as possible so as not to disturb her sleep. I concentrate on her breath that I feel against my neck. I never thought a light flutter like that could be so enjoyable. Her breath is going regularly. I peek down to catch a glimpse of her face. She looks calm and maybe there is even a hint of a smile. Her hair is still pulled back into a ponytail. She is back home.

I can't help but feel content about the outcome of this weekend. I will have to explain a lot to Robert tomorrow and I hope I can persuade him to transfer me to the hospital in Truro to supervise the research project there. I will have to commute a bit longer, but at least Louisa can live where she feels at home.

Even James seemed happier in Portwenn. He managed after not even an hour what I couldn't do during all these years – he had found friends. He hasn't got many friends in London. Maybe Louisa had passed the Cornish gene to him.

I tilt my head a bit to rest my head on Louisa's. I feel her hair against my cheek. We are as close as we haven't been in a long time. She seems to be happier just by breathing Cornish air. She was centre of attention the moment the first villager spotted her. It seemed as if the entire population of Portwenn came to welcome her. I don't know why, but she enjoys this sort of thing, maybe even needs it. I will never understand the appeal of it.

Many Portwennians expressed their astonishment that we are still together, but Louisa defended me admirably, even telling them that staying with me has been the best decision of her entire life. Even if I don't give a toss about the opinion of people, I couldn't help but grow a few inches in pride that Louisa stood by me. I am not sure that her statement would have been the same before this weekend. Maybe I wasn't completely wrong.

I remember the first time we sat like this. It was in a hospital. It was the first time Louisa and I were really close. It was then that I hoped that my future could possibly include her. It was then that I couldn't deny my feelings for her any longer. She had sneaked into my dreams before. I can still remember that dream I had when her voice on the answering machine woke me. That dream stayed with me for years, in different variations. These dreams stayed with me until the night after my proposal, when it was replaced by something more precious. A memory.

That night, we saved a boy's life. It was then that I realised that she made me go that extra mile. It was her fear for the boy, her care that made me capable of operating on him without vomiting. Looking back, I should have realised even then that she could be my salvation. Operating on the ruptured spleen I was covered in blood, but I didn't have to throw up once. I felt nauseous, but within controllable limits. I knew I had to do it as soon as she made it clear that she trusted me, she shushed the paramedic and placed the health of this boy into my hands.

Maybe, we did save a boy's life today, too. Maybe we saved _our_ boy's life. I hope he'll have a better life than we had. A better childhood. A more functional family. And maybe, just maybe, we could salvage our own family today.

I'm still resting my head on Louisa's while watching our sleeping son. Right now, life is perfect, and I feel that the gamble I took paid off. I sit there for a while, the rhythmic rattle of the train soothing my soul, or more likely the sweet fragrance of Louisa's hair is doing that, which has again a hint of sea breeze in it.

When I look down to her face, I see her looking up at me. She is not asleep anymore, but I hadn't noticed. I find myself getting lost in those beautiful eyes beaming at me.

"What have you been thinking?" She asks me, and I don't know what to answer.

As I keep quiet, she urges me. "You looked so far away."

Now I know what I want to know.

"Did you mean what you said?"

She blinks, then smiles. "I usually do. But what exactly?"

"Uhum." It's difficult to explain. "What you said, to the villagers…"

Her brow furrows and I can practically watch her thinking.

"I said a lot in the village." She finally states. "It seems I'm a true chatter-box among my…." She pauses.

"Friends." I finish for her. The twinkling in her eyes second my statement.

"I mean…when they…they didn't understand. I mean – us. They…"

"Oh, that's what you mean!" She tilts her head now so that we are not resting against each other anymore. She looks straight at me now. I feel a lump in my throat. I feel her hand sneaking up my shirt, and her mouth comes closer to mine, kissing me slowly and sensually as an answer.

Our son chooses this exact moment to open his eyes and groans "Not again!"

I jump back slightly, almost as if I was found out, guiltily. Louisa, on the other hand laughs out loud. Her hands still fumbling with all sorts of my clothing, she grins towards me.

"Maybe we haven't done it often enough, James." My son is distorting his face, then snuggles back into his seat, sighing "Parents."

_To be continued…_


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Louisa keeps on laughing, paying me full attention again. Her hand wanders up my back, caressing my neck, before she finally puts it at the back of my head, playing with my hair. Her face is just inches in front of me, and I don't know what to do or to say, so I keep quiet and enjoy.

We look into each other's eyes for what seems to me like an eternity. Louisa keeps playing with my hair, which makes it hard for me to concentrate and keep my composure.

Suddenly, Louisa looks at me gravely and whispers in a serious tone: "Do you still want to marry me?"

My heart misses a beat, there are butterflies in my stomach and I feel slightly light-headed. I gaze at her, mouth agape, speechless, and I'm afraid that I stare at her shamelessly, maybe even leering at her.

I see Louisa start biting her lower lip, which makes me worry as I have learnt that this is a sign that she's worrying about something. Maybe I've done something wrong again.

"What, Martin? I always thought? I mean, maybe…you haven't asked in a long time. So, forget it, I suppose."

"Louisa." I gasp, and I am again sorry that this is the best I can come up with.

"We don't have to, you know? I just thought you might want to."

"But you made me understand I should stop asking. I thought you didn't want to, really."

"But I'm asking you now."

"You don't have to, I am happy the way it is. I mean, you didn't seem very comfortable with the idea."

I am stopped by Louisa whispering "Shut up."

And I do.

"Martin, don't think about what I might want. I am asking _you_. This whole weekend was about me. This one question is about you. Do _you_ want to marry me?"

"Not if you're not comfortable about it."

"Martin!" She scolds me, but her eyes are still twinkling so I guess she's teasing me. I hope.

"Without thinking about me – do you?"

There are a million thoughts rushing through my head. I'm not able to verbalise one of them. I can't describe the warm glow the thought of putting a ring on Louisa's finger gives me. I can't describe how right it would feel. I can't describe what it would mean to me to be officially part of this family and not just living together with the two most important people in my whole life.

But I do have to answer her question. I am afraid that I will ruin it again as soon as I open my mouth.

As an answer I pull her closer and hug her. I don't think kissing her would be right. I just want to show her that I'm there for her, that I want to be with her. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I hold her close. I think this is the best answer that I can give.

I hear Louisa's muffled voice against my shoulder.

"So what do you say?"

Here it is again. Her need to have every answer being spoken.

"That'll be good."

"Just good?" She asks, withdrawing slightly to look into my eyes.

"Fine."

"You really _are_ hopeless!" Louisa says but before I can worry, she snuggles back into my arms. "As you are so desperate to marry me, when are we going to do it?"

Louisa has to rush everything. Until five minutes ago I didn't even know she'd changed her mind about getting married, and now she already wants to have a date.

"Uhm…don't know."

"I suppose the sooner the better."

"Really?"

She withdraws again to look at me. "Why? Don't you want to? Do you need more time to think about it?" And this time there is an accusation in her voice.

"No, not at all!" I hurry to assure her. "I just thought you wanted to get married among your friends."

"What?"

"In Portwenn, I thought."

I am relieved that she is snuggling back against my chest and I put my arm around her.

"No, I think I'd like to go there as one family. Otherwise they'll just get the wrong idea. No, we really should get married before we go down there."

I couldn't agree more. Especially as it saves me the ordeal of Large's catering, an imbibed vicar, Mrs. Tishell ogling me, and a church full of people just waiting for Louisa to stand me up.

"Good." I say.

I'm debating with myself if I should tread onto a minefield just as everything seems fine right now in asking what is bothering me most about our current arrangement. There is no use, I need to know.

"What about…uhm…eh…the family name?" At the moment, I am surrounded by Glassons. Louisa had made it clear from the start that her son was having her name. Maybe it is silly, but I feel left out.

I wait anxiously for Louisa's reaction. My arm still around her, I try to assess if her body tension changes, indicating rising discomfort, but she stays quietly in my arms. Louisa stays quiet for quite some time.

"It really bothers you, doesn't it?"

I nod, but even when Louisa isn't looking I know she must feel my head dipping.

"Why?"

It is silly and I don't want to answer. So I keep silent.

"If you're not answering me, then I don't have to answer either. So if you want a response, you'd better say something. Your true thoughts would be nice."

I breathe in deeply. "Right, I see." I have to collect my thoughts, and for once Louisa isn't rushing me but stays calmly in my arms. Somehow that encourages me. I try to find the words before speaking, and when I do I speak quickly, so as not to have second thoughts.

"I feel left out. You and James belong together for the world to see and I have to explain that I am there, too, somehow." I keep my breath. I know I am reading too much into it, but Louisa expressly asked for my honest opinion. Here it is.

She takes it in quietly, then I am relieved to feel her hand rubbing my chest. "Poor thing. I never thought of it that way. Is that what you've been thinking all these years?"

"Uhum."

"Must be awful. Of course you're part of our family. A central part. We couldn't do without you, no matter what surname we have."

"Still, it feels odd." I manage to say.

"If we'd been in Spain, it would be unheard of for the woman to change her name. Everyone has the same surnames their whole life."

"We're in England."

"I know. It's just that I spoke with Ana about it."

"About our surnames?" I asked alarmed.

"No, about surnames in Spain in general."

"Ah."

Louisa is quiet again. I still don't have the answer I need to have.

"What about us, then?"

"What?"

"Surname."

"Oh, Ellingham, of course."

As a reflex, my arms are pushing Louisa forward, so that she is facing me. I am shocked. I didn't expect this to go so smoothly. Without any discussion. I need to see her eyes to know if there is the slightest risk that she's just teasing me. But there is nothing in her expression that gives reason for the slightest doubt.

"You really are serious?" I need to confirm.

"You didn't think I'd make you a Glasson?"

I can't help but wince at the pure thought of carrying the name of a loathsome thief.

"It's not that horrible." Louisa is less than happy about my reaction and this time she is seriously peeved.

"If you're used to it." I mutter.

"I am."

"Right?" There is this doubt again. "So?"

"But I'm sure I can get used to _Ellingham_, if that's what you want." I sigh relieved and repeat in my mind '_Louisa Ellingham. James Ellingham'_.

"Do you?" Louisa is waking me from my reverie.

"Oh, uh…I do."

"I thought so."

"Do you mind?"

"Not really. Three Ellinghams heading for Portwenn."

_To be continued…_


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

I can't believe my luck. Louisa seems sure about it. I suppose it will be alright. I hug her again. It is the best I can come up with. It feels as if she were made to fit, just perfect to melt against me. I hear her sigh.

"Then there's just the question about where we will live. My tenants are on the move, but I suppose the cottage will be a tad small."

"Don't worry," I assure her, "I have an idea."

"Really?"

"Not now."

"Right. It's best to take a nap while on the train. I don't want you to be knackered when we're back home."

"It's bedtime, then."

"Exactly, and I need you to be in top shape." She tilts her head and grins at me. I open my mouth, but can't think of anything to say, so I shut it again.

Louisa giggles. "Exactly."

She has extraordinarily wandering hands tonight. Still grinning at me, her hands roam over my suit. Finally, she fingers at my waistband.

"Louisa, what are you doing?!"

"Just checking if I can see Scotland."

"What?"

"Your boxer shorts."

I groan. I had almost forgotten this undignified piece of clothing I was forced to wear.

"What?" Louisa asks, still trying to tuck at this offending garment.

"Did you have to remind me? I'd almost forgotten that…._thing_."

"I think it's sexy."

I grunt something intelligible in response. What I'm really thinking is better not said out loud.

"You do find some of my knickers sexy, don't you?" She asks me.

"That's hardly the same."

"For me it is." She keeps fondling at my clothing and I hiss that she should stop.

"Well, no sign of Scotland yet, but wait until we're home – then I'll work my way down to Cornwall." Louisa whispers.

"Louisa!" I shout louder than I have planned. My head immediately pops up to check if the other passengers of the carriage have noticed us. However, those who aren't asleep have a little headset in their ears and are therefore distracted. I take a deep breath. Louisa starts laughing.

"Have I shocked you?"

"We're in public." I hiss.

"It's not really packed, is it? I don't see anyone taking notice of us." She is still laughing, still leaning against me with her body, folding herself against me. Her hand is wandering downwards, and I can't push her away quickly enough to stop her.

"Do I notice some movement in the Peak District?" She cheekily asks.

"Louisa, please!" I practically beg her now.

"Sorry," she can't completely control her giggles, "definitely blushing."

I feel awkward and try to free myself from Louisa, who is still all over me.

"Did I go a step too far?" She looks at me, a bit concerned now, but still glowing. Gosh, she is so beautiful! Especially when her eyes are shining like that.

I feel completely like a fish out of water, and although I can't really say that I thoroughly enjoy these public displays, I can't say that I don't either. To be honest, I don't know quite what to say. I just know that I will never be able to look innocently at a map of the UK again.

As I don't know what to say, I simply take Louisa's head in my hands and then tilt her head slightly. I place a kiss on her forehead.

When I look at her again, I'm not sure if I did something wrong.

"Are you crying?"

"Of course not!" Louisa protest, but then dabs her eyes. "Oh, I am."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she gives my hand a squeeze, "nothing's wrong."

"Why are you crying, then?"

"Oh, I don't know." She smiles and cries at the same time. Some things I will never understand about women. "Maybe I'm just happy."

"Are you?"

"You know, I'm quite glad that you put on a gruff façade for almost everybody. I wouldn't stand a chance in keeping you if you'd show everyone what a wonderful man hides in there." She is poking my chest with her index finger.

I don't know what to say. I stare at her, and she stills smiles at me.

"Martin?"

I gulp. My mouth feels dry and my voice sounds strangled when I answer. "Yes?"

"You know that probably not one in a million men would do for their partner what you are doing for me?"

"Uhm…I…"

"No. Shut up. You'd just play it down. I bet no one would give up a job like yours and agree to live in a place he loathes just for his partner. And I bet you are literally the only one who manages to get into trouble for that."

I cough uncomfortably.

"I've been such a cow, giving you hard times." She kisses me gently. Before I can contradict her, she continues. "I am _so_ sorry. I should have trusted you. I should have known that you would never go to Portwenn for your sake, but only for mine. But trust has never been my forte, I suppose. I misjudged you so terribly."

"Easily done."

Louisa smiles at me. "That's what I mean. You're just so easy to apologize to. I bite your head off and you shrug your shoulders. You really deserve better than me."

"No!" I protest and I mean it. If I have learned something over the years, it is that I couldn't do any better than be with Louisa.

"Sweet of you to contradict me. Besides, I have to warn you – if you ever let another woman near you, I'll scratch her eyes out. I want you all for myself. I am not very generous when it comes to you. Well, it's going to be late when we get home. How about taking a nap now."

And so we rest, lowering the seats a bit to be almost in a lying position, side by side, hands intertwined.

_To be continued…_


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

I peek into the rear mirror. On the back seat, Louisa is showing James something in one of his books. Louisa looks up just at that moment and our eyes meet in the mirror. She smiles.

Next to me, the Buddha is safely buckled up. It is a rather expensive item. The first really expensive thing I bought for myself. I was young and still searching for the meaning of life. Decades later, after I came to the conclusion that there is none, I have finally found it. Not on the shelf of some antique store but on a passenger seat of a small plane to Cornwall.

I found it at a time when I had come to the desperate conclusion that there was not only no meaning in life, but that my life was also without any purpose. I had left behind everything that had been dear to me. My life was empty. Maybe that's why _she _could fill it.

And she filled it in abundance.

I look at James. A child. A symbol that life is growing and developing, turning into something new in a clear direction. Every day. Unstoppable.

Then I look at the Buddha. Symbol of the wheel of life. Life running in circles and you end up almost always where you've begun.

Both are right.

We are on the M4 on our way to Cornwall. So Louisa and I will end where our journey had begun. We will end up in Portwenn.

However, we developed and grew in between, and the people who will arrive in that small Cornish fishing village in a couple of hours are not the same people who sat opposite in that plane, staring at each other.

Most of our belongings are still in London. We have just filled the boot with the mere necessities. Our home isn't ready yet. We will have to stay at the farm for a couple of months.

We couldn't postpone our move, as Louisa will start as the new head mistress for the autumn term soon. I will also start my new position shortly.

Two months ago, I had a rather difficult meeting with Robert.

It was the Monday after our trip to Portwenn. I was knackered. Thanks to Louisa, I didn't get much sleep that night. As she had promised, she took a tour of the whole map on my pants. I just made it out of our en-suite before she was all over me. The Cornish air had truly enhanced her hormone production.

When I had the meeting with Robert at 10 am, scheduled before as I was to report what had happened at the conference, I was tired but at least I knew what I was fighting for. There was no doubt in my mind anymore that this was the right move. As Louisa had put it, I was her knight in shining armour and I would win the tournament for her.

Robert greeted me with a friendly smile, signalling with a slight gesture of his hands that I should take a seat, suspecting nothing.

"So how are the old colonies today, Martin? How was the flight?"

"Long."

"You never were much for travelling. Well, I already had some feedback. It seems you represented us quite well. Your presentation raised some interest. We have already had some questions regarding our studies."

"So I noticed."

"Of course. You've probably answered the whole lot already. You must have started early." He leaned forward to look at me more closely. "You look tired. Don't overdo it."

"Uhm." I didn't want to reveal the true reason for my state of fitness. Well, at least Louisa hadn't complained about that the night before.

"So fire ahead. Anything I should know?"

"Ehm. Actually…there is…."

"So there _have_ been other interesting presentations. I was already worried you'd known all of the findings presented at Cornell before. Especially as I haven't seen any minutes yet."

"Uhm…No…I mean…later." I took a deep breath. I had to take the plunge at some point. "We have to talk about the research project."

"Any problems?"

"Did you find any partners at Plymouth University yet?"

"Ah, well, Martin. We are still assessing two candidates. We also asked some of our staff, but you know how it is. No one wants to leave the vibrant centre to go to some distant outpost. If you're out of focus for too long, you're almost done with."

I must have grimaced, as Robert quickly added. "Of course, if someone has a reputation as you have, then he might come back. But few have."

"Then let me go." This had been my opportunity. Robert had practically given me the cue.

Robert leaned back in his chair, letting the pen he had been playing with slowly drop on the desk. I felt his scrutinizing look upon me, but I tried to stay calm and to withstand his inspection.

Finally Robert leaned forward again, closing the gap between us.

"Maybe you just need some holidays, he?" He tried to gauge me by searching my eyes. I kept them steady. "You would tell me if there's anything wrong, would you? I risked my arse to get you back into your old job."

"I doubt you've had any reason to regret it. I worked dashed hard for Imperial."

"That's what I mean." Robert continued. "You look tired and worn out. Just take some days off. Your last holiday was when?"

"March." Since I am back in London, I actually do take time off, and I always do it between terms.

"See. Some months. Stressful months."

"What are you on about?" I finally got a bit irritated.

"Well, I can't say I noticed anything. Or anyone else. But it was the same the last time, wasn't it? You doing wonders on your patients one day, and then shaking and vomiting the next. Martin, I know you are brilliant, but we can't take that risk. You know there is help when needed? You don't have to go through it alone. You tried it the last time. Remember where that led you."

I was shattered. So much for the knight in shining armour. I felt the urge to jump up, but then thought better of it as it could be misinterpreted as if I was losing control. That was the last impression I wanted to give. Instead I leaned forward and asked Robert in an insistant voice: "Do I give you any reason to believe I am not fit for my job? Is there anything you need to worry about?"

I leaned back and answered my question myself. "You know best that you give me all the difficult cases. When I started here almost three years ago, I actually did notice that you gave me the procedures most likely to create a bloody mess. I didn't say anything. I would have done the same. I am just disappointed that it seems I am still on trial."

"So you can assure me – honestly, to my face – that you don't have any relapse of your haemophobia?"

"Give me a ruptured artery and I'll prove it to you." I said as calmly as I could. It was an offer easily made as I really had conquered my blood thing for good. Mind you, I still got queasy when James skinned his knee or Louisa cut herself on the finger. However, as long as the red stuff didn't come from my own family, I could stand it.

Robert leaned back in his chair, now visibly relaxing, and let out a long breath.

"Phew, you really made me worry. I hate to admit it, but we can't afford to lose you. Would be bloody inconvenient."

"You'd manage without me."

Robert nodded, slowly. "Sure. We did have to manage without you for years. We know that we can, but we also know how difficult that is. We also know that we can perform better when you're in our team. You're the special service we can offer our customers."

"The paying ones." I added, knowing that only few of my patients were actually NHS.

"Admittedly, you drew in some pretty hefty extra income. We'd be mad to let that slip through our fingers." Robert grinned. "So don't shock me ever again with such a bad joke. Since when did you develop a sense of humour? A rather bad one, I might add."

"I am dead serious."

"You mean?"

"I'm asking you to transfer me to Plymouth University, preferably at the partnered hospital in Truro."

Robert jumped up, going over to the window looking out at a rather dull and grey inner courtyard, running his hand through his hair. Then he turned around.

"You certainly know how to drop a bomb."

I waited for his answer.

"Martin, we can't afford to lose you."

"You won't. I would still participate in that research project."

Robert sighed. "But why?"

I paused a moment. I didn't want to reveal my true motives. "I thought it would suit us best."

"That's rubbish, and you know it." Robert scolded me.

"Then – it would suit _me_ best."

"Oh, suddenly going to Cornwall suits you. After…" Now it was Robert who paused. He sat down opposite me again.

"Louisa. You're wife. Is that it?"

I cleared my throat. I have a lot to be thankful for, and Robert is my mentor and I also have high respect for him, but I do not intend to discuss my private life with him.

"We're not married."

"Ah, Martin. Don't be picky. That doesn't make any difference anymore. You met her in Cornwall, didn't you? She's from there?"

"Uhm, yes."

"So she's putting the pressure on you?"

"Absolutely not!" This time I didn't give a damn if my outburst could be seen as losing control.

Robert paused for a moment and then sighed. "Sorry, mate. Can't do. We need you here."

This wasn't how I hoped this conversation turned out. Nevertheless, I did prepare for a case like this. Calmly, very calmly I shot my last bullet. "Bodmin NHS Treatment Centre is looking for a general surgeon. You will have the minutes of the conference by noon."

I headed for the door. Shortly before I reached out for the knob, a voice behind me stopped me.

"Martin, I never thought you'd ever put the pressure on me. Even less to get something that's not good for you at all. I am not sure if you've thought this through."

I turned around. "I have. Thoroughly."

"You. Of all people. You were always the most rational person I have ever met, and now…this is madness!"

"That's not for you to decide."

"Well, I can just guess that you're doing it for your family. To be honest, it was difficult enough for me to imagine you with a family at all, but to realise that you even care…"

"What…" I started to rant but Robert raised his hand to stop me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just difficult to grasp. You seemed more suited for the likes of Edith rather than the school teacher you're with now. She's lovely, yes, but you don't seem to have anything in common."

"This is none of your business." I told him exasperated.

"Maybe you're right. I can't decide on anything now. I have to give it some thought." Robert got up and joined me at the door. "Promise me that you won't do anything hasty. Just let the news sink in for a week, and we'll try to sort out this mess on Friday. Right?"

I nodded awkwardly.

"I'll let you know when I can squeeze you in."

I went to do my business. Robert had known me for almost all of my professional life, but he didn't know me at all. Even I realised during my stay in the States that something was happening to me, but I couldn't really understand it myself. Maybe I needed a week more to think about it.

The week passed, and on Friday Robert agreed to transfer me for 'personal reasons'. However, I had to be at Plymouth hospital twice a week, mostly for lectures and teaching. Two days a week I could be at Truro, where the unit for the research project would mainly be based. Circumstances permitting, I was allowed to do the administration and preparation of publications and so forth from my home office one day a week. A monthly meeting at Imperial was scheduled to confer between Plymouth and London.

I would have a lot of commuting to do, but it was the best I could do to try to get the best from both worlds.

_To be continued…_


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Louisa had finally gotten her work contract as head teacher of Portwenn Primary within a week of our return and had informed her London school that she would quit, ending her employment with her summer term. They were actually quite shocked and questions were raised regarding her motivation.

As soon as it became clear that Louisa was fulfilling her own dream, everyone seemed to be happy for her. At least that was what Louisa told me.

Our professional future finally sorted, it was time to tackle something else.

So the week after our trip to Portwenn, we had to have a serious discussion about our future. Maybe the most important one we'd had so far.

Actually, for the first time Louisa and I managed to sit down quietly and really discuss something, without being at each other's throats or in a huff. Our relationship is better than it has ever been. It seems, Louisa trusts me as she has never done before. Louisa was never good at putting trust in someone. An imprint from early childhood.

I am also not being used to being trusted like that. An imprint from early childhood.

We both have grown in that respect and it makes our relationship better. Louisa realised after our Portwenn visit that she can actually trust me, and I feel that I don't have to defend myself because I know I am not doubted. On the other hand, I try to keep Louisa's interests at heart as I don't want to disappoint her.

It was a completely new situation, when Louisa decided that she could call her Saturday evening's meeting off to have ample time to talk our housing situation through.

I had made some inquiries and had a proposition to make. After putting James to bed, Louisa settled on the settee with a glass of white wine and her feet tucked up. I placed myself at the other side of the table and sorted my papers.

"Right." I said when I finally had all the papers I needed in the correct order.

"Right then." Louisa said. "So what have you decided?"

"Louisa," I had to make this point clear, "I haven't decided on anything. I have simply gathered the facts and maybe we can discuss a suggestion that I'd like to make."

"Sure," Louisa took a sip of her wine, "just fire ahead."

"The way I see it there are four options."

"Four?"

"Please, let me explain. Basically, we already have three properties in Portwenn at our disposal."

"Three? I thought two, max."

"Actually, there is _White Rose_ _Cottage_, which is owned by you, _Fern Cottage _owned by me and _Havenhurst Farm_ currently owned by Ruth but which will be my inheritance eventually, if I can't talk her out of it."

"Ah, okay, but the fourth possibility?"

"We could always buy something else."

"Pricey, isn't it?"

"Please don't jump to conclusions. I'd first like to assess the current situation a bit more in detail before we head on to any decisions. I've prepared some spreadsheets to compare the pros and cons for each possible solution."

I turned my printouts in a way that Louisa could more easily follow my analysis. She leaned forward to look at them more closely and sipped again at her glass.

"Whatever would you do without spreadsheets?"

"Anything wrong with that?"

"No, nothing's wrong." Louisa flashed her smile at me. "Let's get to the facts."

"Right." I breathed in deeply and pointed at the first line of the table.

"First there's _White Rose Cottage_. Its advantage is that there are currently no tenants, so that we could use it immediately. Another advantage is certainly that we already own this property. However, the big disadvantage is the size of the rooms, the amount of rooms and the headspace."

Louisa reached over to rub my knee. "You always had to duck constantly not to collide with the beams when using the stairs."

"Exactly."

"I suppose it is a bit on the smallish side. Shame really, the sea views are magnificent. I always loved living there. Besides, I have some _very fond_ memories of this place." Louisa gave my knee a squeeze. "But you're right, it wouldn't really be practical, I suppose."

"Please, don't be hasty. We are not at the stage of making decisions yet. I will just assess the given situation."

"Ah, right. Go on."

"Second, there's _Fern Cottage_. Again, we do own this property. However, it is rented out and the Tea Room pays a decent monthly rent, which could be handy as additional income when we might have to invest in adapting a new home. Besides, to be able to use the premises as a tea room major re-work had been done which would have to be undone to be able to use it as a family home again. Therefore, major adaptation will be necessary. Again, we also have the problem of the size of the rooms and the amount of rooms. There are minor issues about the headspace, too. The only advantage I can see so far that it has a parking space."

"That's not a lot in favour of it, then."

"Please, Louisa. Let's not make any decisions before we have all the facts."

"Sorry, I'm prone to snap judgement."

"You are."

"Yes, Martin, I know." Louisa put her wine glass down and bent over to cover my hand with hers. "But that's why I've got you. To stop me in time." She patted my hand. "Go on."

"Third, there's _Havenhurst Farm_. Strictly speaking, we do not own this property. However, Ruth has indicated that we could either use part of the main building or convert one of the outbuildings for our use. It would have the advantage for me that it has direct connection to the road to Truro and Bodmin Parkway. However, this means that it would have the disadvantage for you that it is further away from your workplace and your friends. It has ample parking and depending what building we use, we could make it spacious enough to serve our needs. However, we won't have much privacy with Ruth and Al living on the same grounds. On the other hand, childcare would be at hand at any time. In any case, we'd have to invest some money on adapting the property to our needs."

"I guess with your commuting it would make sense. Still…"

"There is still the last option." I interrupted her. "We could try to find a new property in Portwenn. I did some research on the estate market. The house prices are rocketing. To find something big enough for our needs, we'd have to invest a solid sum."

"Yes," Louisa sighed, "they are driving all the locals away with their ridiculous pricing policy. I couldn't possibly afford…"

"_We_ could easily afford a respectable sized house." I interrupted her. Even when we'd made progress in our relationship, Louisa still didn't seem to accept my greater input into the family finances. "However, we are not really spoiled for choice. It could take some time until something might come up to suit us. It is impossible to predict when. So this opportunity bears many elements of uncertainty."

"Right, so now you've assessed all possibilities, which one would you prefer? The farm?"

"Not necessarily. Would you?"

"I thought because of the better road connection."

"Uhm, no, actually I would propose a different course of action."

"Which one?"

"Uhm…actually…do you have any preferences?" I had reminded myself before our meeting that I shouldn't make decisions without consulting Louisa and had reminded myself to ask her first.

"I've always loved _White Rose Cottage_. The sea views are to die for. I loved them. Besides, the house and us – we have a history together. But you're absolutely right. It was just about manageable for one, no chance to live in it as a family, really. So what's your suggestion?"

"Uhm…the way I see it no matter which solution we'd choose, we have to spend some money for conversion."

"Suppose so."

"However, it does seem to me that three properties in Portwenn are definitely enough for one family, so I wouldn't opt for a complete new house."

"So the farm then?"

"It _is_ a possibility, if you would prefer it. However, I tend to agree with you that _White Rose Cottage _is our best option, given its central situation and the fact that there are currently no tenants."

"Really?!" Louisa has sat bold upright, putting her wine glass on the table and staring at me with big eyes.

"Definitely."

"What about the space issues."

"Well, when I said I wouldn't opt for a new house, I might have been a bit misleading."

"_Misleading_?"

_To be continued…_


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

"Yes. You remember that we passed the estate agency sign last week at Mrs Averill's house. I made some inquiries. Due to the poor state of the property and its smallish size it's on the market for quite a manageable amount of money."

Louisa leant back. "I still don't quite understand. I mean, you didn't want to buy something new, but now you do, and something that isn't even bigger than what we've already got. I don't get it." I was just about to start to explain to her when her face brightened up. "Unless, of course… That's brilliant!"

"Uhm…yes…the general idea was…" I couldn't finish my thought, as Louisa started babbling.

"Sure, we could combine both cottages, making one bigger one of the two small ones. We could have a kitchen/diner _and_ a living room with gorgeous harbour view and if we throw all the upstairs space together, we should just have enough for James and us."

"Exactly."

Louisa beamed at me. "You're good. You're _very_ good! Agreed." Louisa then bent over to cup my face. "Maybe we can proceed to the reward for my clever man now?"

"Louisa, please! We're not finished yet. How can I concentrate like this?"

"Then don't. Give your brain a rest." Louisa caressed my cheek with her thumb.

"We still have to discuss the details."

"Oh, alright. What about taking a little break and then discussing the details?"

"I'd rather get this sorted as soon as possible to contact all necessary parties. The longer we leave the planning, the longer we have to accept an interim arrangement."

Louisa leant back on the sofa again, snuggling into her cushion, taking another sip from her glass. "You're probably right. A shame, really."

"The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can concentrate on other things. So let's get this done."

"So what's the problem?"

"First, we should arrange a viewing of the property. We can't make any final decisions without knowing the exact facts. If you agree, I'll email the estate agent to arrange a viewing on one of the next Saturdays. We shouldn't leave it too long. If someone else buys it, our plans would be severely disturbed."

"That means we have to go to Portwenn?"

"Don't even try to look unhappy about it." I look at her sternly.

"No," she laughs, "I wouldn't. It's a darn long journey, but I take it anytime."

"Are there any dates you can't do?"

"I'll check my diary and tell you first thing tomorrow, or do you need to know now?"

"It's a weekend. I doubt he'd be there for us now."

"OK, next?"

"Presuming we buy the house, we'll need to commission an architect to plan the combination of the two cottages. This should be done early on, as the workers have to be instructed, too. Maybe we should make inquiries about an experienced architect now, even when we're not entirely sure about getting the cottage."

"I can ask Danny, if you like." Louisa said innocently, taking another sip of her wine and looked at me over the rim of the glass.

I gasped. What an outrageous assumption. I wouldn't let him within a 100 mile radius of our home! How weird would that be to let your home be re-designed by the former fiancé of my wife?! How could Louisa ever suggest anything like that?!

"Danny?!" I asked her, and I couldn't hide the shock. "The _Steely_ saint?"

"He's supposed to be very good."

"Who says so?"

"He did tell me himself, and he knows Cornish cottages."

"You're not serious! You can't really mean that!"

"Wouldn't it be funny to have Danny plan our bedroom according to our wishes?"

"Downright funny." I growl. "You'd better be kidding."

Louisa still looked at me, half hiding behind her glass. Finally, she burst out laughing. "You should have seen your face! Sorry." Louisa bent forward, and patted my hand. "Actually, I _was _kidding."

I was looking up sceptically. Was she just backtracking as she realised her idea wasn't to my liking?

"Did you really think I would have _him_ work for us? Your expression was worth the suggestion, though."

"Don't you _ever_ do that again?" I warned her. "I can't see anything funny about it."

"Sorry. I'll make up for it later. After we've got through all this planning stuff. But seriously, the husband of a colleague of mine is an architect. He usually does other stuff, but maybe he knows someone in the trade who'd be right. Would you mind me asking _her_?"

"As long as she doesn't come up with Danny Steel."

"I doubt that very much." Louisa laughed. "In any case, we're not committed to follow her recommendation. So who cares?"

"Right. Ask her. I will also make inquiries. Before we contact him, we should have an idea what we want from our home. The necessary requirements."

"Well, I'd _love_ a huge kitchen/diner, then…"

"Actually," I did interrupt Louisa, "I think we should think about it a bit and then maybe make a list next Saturday. It is very unlikely that we'll get an architect before then."

"Well, maybe you're right. That's it?"

"We need to make an appointment with the bank. We should consult them about the best possibilities for financing the move."

"Sorry, there's not much I can offer. It really is above my limits. So I can't really help you there."

I sighed and put the papers and the pen down. No matter how long we've been together, there are certain things that I cannot understand. "Louisa, I need you there so as it is _our_ money that we have to invest, I think we should invest it in the best possible way."

"Actually, it is your money, mostly. Almost completely, to be honest. I could hardly afford a bedsit here."

"How often do I need to tell you that it is _our _money? It doesn't matter about whose payroll it comes from. It's not your fault society pays better for stitching people together than for educating children. And I would very much like to invest _our_ money in _our_ future. The money doesn't do anyone any good when I shift it from one investment to the next. I'd rather use it for something useful. But I want to invest it together with you, so _we_ will need an appointment with the bank. Together. End of discussion."

Louisa was brooding over her wine for a while, not looking happy at all. Finally she sighed and looked towards me. "You're so generous. And I am so ungrateful. But Dad always lived on loans and I swore to myself never to spend more money than I have. I didn't want to end up like him, going from one dodgy deal to the next to pay for the debts he made for the previous one. I was always very careful to earn my own money."

"But that's different." I protested. "You're not _borrowing _any money and you're not making debts. But you can't seriously expect us to live cramped together if we can easily afford decent accommodation? That would be completely illogical. Why can't you get this into your head? You are not _poor_ anymore."

"Well, because you…"

"STOP it. What do you want to tell James? That he has to sleep at the foot of our bed at _White Rose Cottage_ because Daddy can afford a bigger house but Mummy can't?"

Louisa dropped her head. "You're right. Of course you're right. Just get an appointment, will 'ya?"

I breathed in deeply. "Good."

"What else?"

"Nothing for the moment."

"_Very _good." Louisa purred and patted the sofa next to her. "So off to the cosy part of the evening."

I looked at her, tempted, but my sense of duty got the better of me. "I just have to make a list of what's next to do, finish some notes on addresses and whom to contact, then compare…"

I was cut short by Louisa. "Well, if you really have to keep working." She sighed.

I looked at her sternly. "We have a lot to do in the next couple of weeks. We won't have much time for anything else if we really want to keep to the deadline of being back in Portwenn for the autumn term, which we must."

"You're right, sure. It's just…you need to chill sometimes."

"Later…in the year."

"Okay, you keep sorting your things and I go and use the loo." Louisa declared while getting up and leaving the room.

_To be continued…_


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

I was noting some addresses and making a list whom to contact and in which order. I was putting papers and information in the right order in which we would need them. I noted some addresses and saved them into my mobile.

I had found some information online on Mrs Averill's house and was just comparing the proportions of this house with the floor plan of Louisa's cottage, when I felt some well-known slender fingers wandering up my neck. I hadn't noticed that Louisa had re-entered the room and was now standing behind me.

"You're really tense." She said, inspecting my neck carefully with her fingertips. "You really should take a break. You're just giving yourself a headache."

"Not now." I grumbled, trying hard to concentrate. "I have to finish this."

Louisa's hand wandered higher, into my hair, up to my occipital bone.

"This tension here says you should take a break." Louisa stated while drawing circles along this area.

It was of no use. I couldn't concentrate on house plans while Louisa kept on with her ministrations. I put the sheets down.

"That's better. Now close your eyes and relax."

Louisa stood behind me and silently continued her massage of my neck. She ran her fingers up and down my neck to relax the muscles. Then she started on my shoulders, squeezing and kneading them.

"You're completely tense. You must have been suffering from headaches again."

"I was about to take some paracetamol before going to bed."

"You shouldn't take too many of them. Just say a word. We'll get it fixed."

"Yeah, but I really don't have the time…"

"Sure you have. Tonight, you can't do anything anyway. Tomorrow is another day. One, that should better be started without headaches." Louisa reached over and put the papers away, piling them up at the side of the table. "Now you call it a day and just relax."

Louisa continued her massage of my neck and her hands kneaded my scalp gently. I could feel several muscles react to her touch. I hadn't realised before how tensed up I've been. I leaned back in the chair, eyes closed.

"That's better." Louisa whispered and kept scanning my scalp for tension to knead away carefully. She slowly worked her way up. I had no idea how much time had passed. I felt myself relaxing and if I hadn't felt a sharp pain in some places, I might even have dozed off.

Louisa kept on working silently, which was an unexpected change to her usually vociferous nature, but the quietude helped me to relax. I turned my head back in my seat and settled into her hands, until she tilted my head a bit further back and touched my forehead gently with her lips.

I threw my eyes open.

"Better?" Louisa quietly asked.

"Much."

"Better than after taking paracetamol?"

"Much. Thank you."

"The least I could do." She scraped my scalp with her hand. "If you'd come over to the couch, I can keep the good work going. I just want to sit down."

Louisa reached out for my hand and I followed her to the couch. Louisa plonked herself onto the settee and fingered for her wine glass.

I placed myself next to her. I hardly sat down, when Louisa pulled at my shoulders.

"Just lie back. You deserve a bit of rest."

"Huh?"

Louisa managed to pull me back to rest my head in her lap. I was looking up to her, sipping at her wine and running her other hand through my hair.

"That's better. You have to learn to let the work go. Life isn't all work."

"It's not all pleasure either."

"No, certainly not, but a healthy mix of both. You know, I think today we worked quite well together."

"Hm?"

"You can help me to focus on the task ahead, get me grounded, so to speak. You're great in organising things and working carefully. Today, I even listened to you, which must have made a nice change for you. I, on the other hand, can take care that you're not overdoing it. That you don't forget that life isn't all work. That you have to relax from time to time and I can help you do so. Maybe I can also help you not to dig too deep into every project, but give you a sense of when you can call it a day. If we can talk as well as we did today, I think we'll make a perfect team."

Louisa had let my hair go and used one finger to follow the lines of my face. Her fingertip left a tingling in its wake. My lips quivered when her gentle touch sent electric jolts through them, shooting through my whole body, making me shiver slightly.

Louisa was still sipping her wine, leaning slightly back and watching quietly every reaction of mine. I was staring up into her eyes. Those wonderful eyes that made me stare at her the first time I saw her on the plane. Good thing though that they did, otherwise Louisa's eyesight would be limited now.

"You're gonna miss London, won't you?"

"Nah," I assured her, "not much."

"But it's where you're at home."

"Not the way you are in Portwenn."

"Which you hate."

"Not the place. The people. I won't be responsible for them anymore."

"You weren't exactly _responsible_ for everyone in the village before."

"I was responsible for their welfare."

Louisa blinked while continuing to let her finger wander over my face. "I understand."

"What?"

"Why you've been so cross with everyone in the village."

"I haven't been _cross_."

"Annoyed, then. You felt they sabotaged your perfectly healthy settlement in the UK."

"Nonsense."

"Anyway. You're right. You're not responsible for them anymore in any way. It's just us near the sea."

"Uhum."

"You know." Louisa smiled while circling my ear. "We wasted an awful lot of time on misunderstandings and not paying enough attention to each other."

"You caught my eye the moment I got on that plane."

"Yeah, literally." Louisa laughed and stopped her gentle touch to tuck her hair behind her ear after shaking her head. "No, seriously. Even the last years, we lived mostly opposite each other rather than together. I've been a terrible wife to you."

"We're not married." I state and my mouth feels dry.

"That," Louisa says running her hand over my arm, "is a fault soon to be set right." She bends down to kiss my forehead. "I'm looking forward to that. And I promise you, once I'm your wife, I'll make a better job of it."

I lift my arm to reach up to touch her cheek. "I have no reason to complain. Whatsoever."

Louisa follows my arm with her fingertips. "Well, I'd say you'd have any reason. It's nice though that you don't complain."

"This is better than I've ever expected."

"Maybe you simply hadn't high expectations? I promise you, I can do better. I will try."

"No need to. This is…fine. You were always…"

"…much too much interested in my own stuff. You showed me what's really important."

"Going back to Portwenn?"

Louisa laughed. "No, not at all, but considering the other ones needs and wishes and sacrificing some of your own needs. You're really one of the most altruistic people I've ever met. You're so moral, and if you think it's the right thing to do, you do it. Even if it affects you negatively. I suppose I always headed for what I wanted."

"You care for all and sundry."

"Yeah, but not without an ulterior motive. I want to be liked and needed. And then I sometimes overlook the one who needs me most." She ruffled my hair.

"And likes you the most." I added.

Louisa put her wine aside and looked at me. It looked weird in this perspective, as everything was in the wrong angle. Then I saw her face approach mine and her lips brushed against mine.

"Yes, Martin. I think no one can be loved like I am. I am very grateful to you."

I didn't understand why. There have always been lots of men admiring her. I heard it several times, in Portwenn as well as in London. She never did need me to be loved. I was the one that had to be grateful that I was allowed to love her.

_To be continued…_


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Louisa watched me carefully and finally broke into a great big beaming smile.

"What?" I asked a bit irritated. I always feel laughed at when someone breaks into a good mood while looking at me.

"Your face. You looked absolutely stunned. You were staring at me like Jamie stares at his Christmas presents."

"Ah…uhum. Good."

Louisa started caressing my face again. "You can unwrap your present later." She whispered.

"No, that's not what I meant!" I protest.

"Really?" Louisa smirked. "That's not the impression I've got over the years."

"Well, yes. I mean. That too, but not _just_ that. I mean…"

"No, I know. That would be really shallow, and you're everything but." She stroked my hair again. "You know, sometimes I think what a shame it is that no one knows how tender and gentle you are. They all get you wrong – _so wrong_!"

I cringed inwardly, as I knew how people saw me – as a tosser, usually – and how much Louisa must suffer from it.

"Then again," she continued, "I've got to smile overhearing people talking about you, knowing that I know this other, hidden side of yours. Just a bit, at least. Thinking how privileged we are, James and I."

"Louisa, I…"

I felt a finger gently touching my lips and I shut up.

"You don't have to spoil it."

I gulped and shut up.

"You are really amazing in many things," Louisa continued, "but finding words in certain circumstances really isn't your forte. You know, when we moved here, to London, I expected you to be different. I don't know why. I just thought that the village made you all grumpy. It wasn't really Portwenn, it was _you_. Here, you interact with people just as poorly as you did in Portwenn."

I sat bolt upright. "That is _not_ true!" I protested vehemently. "I am a _highly respected_ professional."

"You were highly respected professionally in Portwenn, too."

"No, I was not!"

"Maybe you didn't see it that way, as you were doing something you didn't want to do. Something that seemed inferior to you. I don't know why. I thought you were a marvellous GP."

"Hmph. "

"Well, maybe for a high-flying surgeon like you, that sort of thing was beneath you. Maybe it's as if I had to run a nursery instead of a school."

"At least people do listen to what I say here." I declared, pinpointing the biggest difference between my jobs here and there. My patients in Portwenn couldn't give a toss about my medical expertise.

"Yes, because everyone you work with is lower in hierarchy and is dependant on you and your patients are unconscious. In social settings you're just as awkward as you've ever been."

"Louisa, I…" I stammered, before I was stopped again.

"I'm not complaining, you know. Just stating the obvious. I wish I'd met you twenty years earlier."

"You wouldn't have liked me twenty years earlier."

"Why not? I bet you looked dashing."

"Lanky and ambitious."

"So? When I met you, you were grumpy and miserable. That didn't stop me either."

"Ah…great."

"Besides I didn't like you for quite some time, but I loved you nonetheless."

"That's nonsense."

"No, really it's not. Actually, there are quite some things it took me years to come to terms with, but I loved you from the first moment I saw you. Well, maybe the second moment."

"Still you thought I was grumpy and miserable."

"Yes, because you _were_ grumpy and miserable. Maybe you wouldn't have been if we'd met years ago."

"If you mean with _grumpy_ that I don't take fools lightly, then I bet I would have been just as grumpy."

"I don't mind grumpy as much, but maybe you wouldn't have been as miserable."

I looked at her. I didn't see that coming. Aunty Joan had suspected years ago that I had been miserable. Now Louisa told me she had the same impression.

"You're still thinking I'm miserable?" I asked tentatively.

Louisa's hand was on its way to finger her wine glass again when it stopped halfway. She looked me full in the eyes, as we were sitting opposite on the couch now. Louisa seemed to think about it for a very long time.

"No, you're right." She quietly said eventually. "You're still grumpy and tense and mono-syllabic and brutally honest, but you're not as irascible anymore. You're calmer and…yes…almost…content?"

"I never knew it. I thought I had everything I wanted before this wretched haemophobia put me off track. But I didn't. I didn't know someone like you was out there somewhere, still available, someone that…." I was looking for words, but they didn't come. I was still looking at Louisa, who brushed a tear out of the corner of her eyes.

"Sshhh." I tried to calm her. "Did I say…anything…wrong?"

Louisa chuckled. "No. Nothing wrong. Imagine."

I put my arms around Louisa's shoulder and drew her close. She rested her head against my shoulder and sneaked her arm around my back.

"You know", she continued, "I guess you wouldn't have liked me either, twenty years earlier."

"I doubt that."

"While studying in London, I quite enjoyed myself."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Well," Louisa made a meaningful pause, "just assuming you had your high moral standards even as a young lad, I bet you would have disapproved of my behaviour occasionally."

"Ah…_oh_." I get a vague idea what she might be saying.

"Yes, _oh_." Louisa snuggled closer into my chest. "I quite liked clubbing and meeting friends and really didn't mind the odd hang-over now and then."

"You mean you were alcoholic?"

"No, Martin. I didn't mean that. I just liked to turn a bottle now and then, with friends. Go out. Go dancing. Just having fun. That's the general idea when you're a student."

"I thought getting the education you require for your aspired job was the general idea."

"I imagine for the likes of you, but there are other students, ones that try their hands on life in general. Enjoying getting out of your home village. Enjoying being away from your family. Enjoying being with other people of the same age and mindset."

"Yes, I did meet _those_ students. Our tutorials had their fair share of those, too."

"You _do_ sound as if you disapproved of them."

"Waste of space. Never getting to the core of things. We were there to learn how to treat people, not giving ourselves headaches. Especially on Mondays they were bloody useless, having been partying the whole weekend."

"It's not just partying, but also sitting together discussing everything under the sun. Broadening your horizon."

"Ah." It was the best I could come up with, as I did think what Louisa was saying was a lot of junk.

Louisa sat up, feet still tucked up, and turned towards me. "See." She poked her index finger into my chest. "This is _exactly_ why I think you wouldn't have liked me twenty years before we finally met. I needed those years. Seeing a bit. Exploring a bit. When we finally met, I was a bit more settled. I had to be more serious, being a good example for the pupils and such. It would've hardly been acceptable to see _Miss G._ late at night in the pub. I was a lot quieter, believe it or not."

"Hard to believe."

"So you never had your _wild days?_"

"What for?"

"Exploring yourself? Test your boundaries? Test your wings and try to fly?"

"And landing hard on the firm ground of reality."

"Did you never let your dreams get the better of you? Your hopes flying high? Trying for the impossible? Did you never rebel against your parents, society or the expectations put on you?"

I looked at her questioningly. Most of what she said sounded like a bag of rubbish to me. Seventies half-baked nonsense.

"Come on, there must have been _something_ you did do your way, and not the way the honourable Ellinghams, Surgeons of the Empire, had planned for you?"

"Uhm…eh…my father…" I started tentatively, "wanted me to join the Navy. Family tradition."

"Yes?" Louisa sat up and looked at me directly. "And?"

"I didn't."

"And the world didn't end."

"No."

"So no harm done."

"My father and I didn't speak for years to come."

"Oh," Louisa said with disappointment, "so sorry."

"Uhm, no love lost."

She rubbed my shoulder. "Poor lad. You know, I think I'm quite glad we met when we did."

_To be continued…_


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

The next weeks were quite busy. There was a lot to be organised. We had to buy a house. To do that, we had to get the finances sorted. Next, we had to hire an architect and plan all the necessary changes to the two cottages to make them suitable as a family home. This would lead to a lot of interaction with the workers, although most of it would be handled by the architect.

Louisa had asked her colleague, who had asked her husband, who made some inquiries to come up with three names of architects he could recommend for cottage conversions and who frequently worked in Cornwall and were familiar with local builders to keep the costs down. I made some inquiries about them, contacted them and asked for references. After careful assessment we chose one architect whose references convinced us the most. Needless to say that none of the recommendations were for Danny Steel.

As it could be foreseen that all the necessary alterations would never be finished by the beginning of the autumn term, we also had to organise an interim solution for us to live in until our home was ready. The obvious choice was the farm. Using the guest rooms in the main house could have been an option, but one that wouldn't offer us a lot of privacy. After all, Ruth was a rather watchful host.

Some phone calls to Al provided us with a more satisfactory solution. Al was turning one of the old barns into holiday lets. He was very eager to use every opportunity to make the farm earn money. Any unused facility got his mind working. A result of a long practise of having to turn every penny twice. If Joan would have had the sense to hire him to help on the farm, I'm sure her financial problems could have been solved and her old heart would have lasted a good deal longer.

Stubborn as we Ellinghams are, she never accepted help, not even from me. She had to pay hard for it.

Al promised to finish the work on the barn by August, so that we could have our separate rooms. It would be a bit cramped for some time, but still better than being in the main house with Ruth.

We took this into consideration with letting out our London flat. I had made some enquiries. The storage space for our furniture plus the cost of the moving vans from our flat to the storage combined with the transport from the storage to Portwenn would be in total only slightly lower than the loss of two months of rent for the flat. Hoping that we wouldn't have to use the interim solution for longer than two months, it would be sensible to keep our London flat as it was and store our stuff there and then only have to move it once. That way, the movers had only one chance of losing or damaging any of our things instead of two.

Finding a tenant for the London flat should be the least of our problems. Living space in the old metropolis was scarce and therefore highly sought after. I suggested hiring an agency to organise the letting for us, but Louisa insisted that it would be a waste of money. A simple notice on the message boards at the hospital and in her school should do the trick. If not, we could always advertise it in the newspaper. I wasn't happy about this suggestion at all. I like everything to have its order and be performed by proper professionals. To make some deals on a private basis isn't my cup of tea at all. Louisa and I argued about this point for quite a long time.

She accused me of not being sensible in not taking a free opportunity to get the work done. Finally we agreed that we would try the notice boards of our respective workplaces first, and if that didn't work, we'd go to an agency.

Another thing that had to be sorted was James' care. I certainly didn't want to be as unprepared as we'd been before, handing James Henry from one person to another. Louisa had been a bit miffed when I had put my point like that, but that is the truth and can't be helped. However, it is important that we have learned from this experience and get ourselves organised better this time.

In London, we have Ana who is a great help. Even I have to admit that she is doing a good job and it was an additional bonus that James had already learned a foreign language, which will soon be forgotten if the training doesn't continue. Louisa and I had a conversation about it as soon as the most important issues about the house and the alterations were sorted.

"It is really a shame that we will lose Ana." I said one evening after putting James to bed.

"Who says we will?" Louisa asked back.

"It's quite obvious, with us moving to Portwenn."

"Who says Ana can't move with us?"

"Really Louisa. First, the combined cottages will be just big enough for the three of us. We could hardly accommodate Ana. Second, why on earth should she be willing to go with us to the back of beyond if she can stay in London? I bet she'd have a new job in no time. No one in her right state of mind would leave London to go to such retarded backwaters."

The moment the words had left my mouth, I already regretted it. I should have learned by now that Louisa defends her village like a lioness her cubs. However, my disdain for the village of the damned is rooted so deep within me that my natural reaction is that everyone has to loathe it.

Immediately, Louisa sat bolt upright in her chair, on full alert, and was glowering at me from the other side of the table with ire in her eyes.

"Ah, retarded. Due to inbreeding, no doubt." Her voice was teeming with sarcasm. Louisa got up quickly and the chair almost toppled over. Louisa caught it in time, just to slam it on the floor energetically. She turned quickly, turning her back to me. "So I'm probably not in my right state of mind. Is that what you're saying?"

"Louisa, really – don't be so childish." I protested.

"Right, childish on top of retarded and out of my mind. I bet you regard me as the result of a long line of inbreeding and I should probably be grateful to you that you brought some fresh blood into this family."

Unfortunately I didn't just step onto a minefield, I plunged into it head first. Now everything was exploding around me. Especially Louisa.

"I'm really wondering why you're going through all this trouble of moving when you don't want to go to the _backwaters_ at all."

"_I_ don't want to." I insisted desperately, having gotten up myself by now. We were circling around the table like two lions the arena. "Only because _you_ want to, that's why we're going through all this…" I waved my hand helplessly in the air…" this…" I gasped as words failed me once again. "BOLLOCKS!"

"Well, maybe it's just in time to find out where we stand." Louisa rubbed her nose. "How _can_ you, Martin?!" Louisa sighed exasperated. "After all the village has done. How friendly they've been."

"To _you_, maybe, but I don't regard '_tosser_' as an endearing term."

"Maybe – just _maybe_ – you do treat the villagers like a tosser. It seems you think they're all idiots."

"_That_" I retorted, "is a matter of opinion. Actually, if you look like an idiot, talk like an idiot, act like an idiot – chances are you _are _an idiot. _If _you are, you have to accept the truth being told."

"You should know – you're an expert on it."

"So now _I'm_ the idiot! Well, maybe you're right, because if I were thinking straight, I…I…" I choked on my words. I realised that in losing my temper I was about to say something that would have really hurt. Hurt not only Louisa, but would damage our relationship. There are words said in anger, and words that will only cause more pain.

"Then _what_?!" Louisa was standing at the other side of the table, arms crossed before her chest, looking daggers at me.

I slumped back on the couch. "Nothing." I muttered bleakly.

"Come on, spill it." Louisa was in full fighting mode. "You're never shy at insulting people. My _bull in the china shop_."

"Why don't we simply ask her?" I suggested trying to diffuse the situation.

"Ask? Who?"

I slowly looked up at Louisa. "_Who_ were we talking about?"

"Uhm…we…?" Louisa seemed to have forgotten the cause of our tempers flying high completely.

I sighed. "Ana."

"Ah. Ana. Right."

It seemed my tactic had worked, even when it hadn't really been a conscious line of action. With me regaining my composure, I took the wind out of Louisa's sails. She grabbed the back of the chair in front of her and leaned against it. "I can ask her tomorrow."

"Good. Wait until I'm home. I can finish early."

Louisa looked up again, and her eyes were coldly upon me. "Don't you trust me?" Louisa asked slowly and lowly, making my blood freeze.

"Sure I do. I just thought as we are _both_ hiring her, we _both _should discuss her further employment with her."

"You mean, _you_ are her employer and you want to play chief."

I breathed in deeply, trying to get my nerves under control and not to refuel our discussion by some wrong comment.

"Not in the least, but I think we are both concerned about Ana's decision and I think it is only fair if we _both_ talk to her. Don't you think?"

"You're not very good in delegating work. You have to be involved in everything. You simply can't stand to trust someone else to do the job right."

"No, not at all. I don't mind you doing the talking, I just want to be there. James' childcare is of great importance to me and I want to participate." Louisa was about to interrupt me, but I completed what I wanted to say despite having to ignore her input. "Besides, I like you to be at all meetings with the bank and architect, too, so I do not see any difference. We are _both_ concerned and should _both_ participate."

Louisa sighed. "Yes, but I do not _insist_ in taking part in these meetings. I would trust you completely. Besides, if _you_ start to talk about Portwenn, I am sure Ana won't consider going there in a million years."

"I see." I nodded. Louisa had a point there. If we were trying to sell the idea to Ana to come to Cornwall with us, then Louisa was definitely the better salesman. "So you do the talking, I'll just sit and observe."

"You'd never keep out of a discussion? No way."

"Yes." I nodded again. "You're in charge."

Louisa paused for a moment. "Alright then. When can you make it?"

_To be continued…_


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Next day after work Louisa was already waiting. She had asked Ana to stay longer, but she had an appointment at the doctor's so she couldn't stay, but promised to be back as soon as she could. She had been quite worried she might have done something wrong. Louisa had assured her that we had no reason for complaint, but that we'd like to talk to her.

Louisa couldn't help but underline that Ana had been really alarmed when she learned that I wanted to be there, too. Louisa also pointed out that Ana seemed frightened of me.

Actually, I did notice that Ana was quite timid whenever I met her or talked to her on the phone. However, I had assumed that she was always that way. I certainly had never given her any reason to be afraid of me.

"Martin, that's the effect you have on most people. You still haven't noticed that?"

"But why? I haven't given her any reason. Nor anyone else."

"It's the way you _are_. The way you talk to people. You brush them off brusquely, and that doesn't go down very well."

"I just tell them what's necessary. I don't see anything wrong with being factual."

"Just a _hint_ of politeness wouldn't sabotage the truth. Look," Louisa obviously tried to calm down, "I do know that you're not meaning any harm, but you rub people the wrong way. It took me _years_ to learn to…tolerate…this. You can't expect Ana to have learned that already."

I opened my mouth, but I didn't know what to say, so I shut it again.

"Correct." Louisa confirmed. "And you'd better keep it shut. I think Ana's coming."

Just as we were talking, we heard the key being turned in the lock of your apartment. Ana did have her own key, as she had to be able to come and go, especially when she went to playgroup or the play ground with James Henry.

Ana came in quite cautiously. She joined us in the living room.

"Hello Louisa," she greeted, and glancing sideways she added rather meekly, nodding into my direction. "Dr. Ellingham."

"Hm." I answered.

"Nice of you to find time to come back, Ana." Louisa went towards her. "How was your appointment? I hope you're well? Nothing serious?"

"No, nothing. Just a … uhm…chequeo rutinario….ah…general checkup." Ana answered.

"Good, so nothing's amiss?"

"No, no…fine, I'm fine."

"Good, very good. Can we offer you something? Tea, coffee, anything else?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I think we did establish that already." I mumbled.

"Sorry, Dr. Ellingham. What did you say?" Ana looked with concern in my direction. Obviously I had been thinking too loud to go unnoticed and not loud enough to be understood.

Louisa looked daggers at me. "Nothing." I said. "Go on." I nodded to Louisa.

"Sit down, Ana." Louisa offered her a seat. "We'd like to talk to you." Louisa grinned and nodded. I always thought she looked downright ridiculous when she tried to emphasise her empathy.

"Did I do something wrong? Wasn't little Jamie happy? What…"

"Stop whining, woman." I couldn't listen to her lament any longer. Louisa turned to me with fury in her eyes.

"Martin, shut up." She mouthed at me, then she turned to Ana with a most sympathetic voice. "Don't worry, Ana. Everything's alright. Actually, we are very happy with the way you care for James. That is the main reason we want to talk to you." Louisa nodded provocatively into my direction, obviously wanting me to confirm. First I should shut up, then I should add my two pence, or rather repeat Louisa's two pence. I sighed. "Yes."

"Ah." Ana relaxed visibly.

"We wanted to talk to you, because your service is very dear to us, and we do not want to lose you." Louisa sat down next to me on the couch.

Ana nodded haltingly.

"Maybe you did notice that something's been going on and that we are about to make some changes. You did notice some changes in the routine?"

"Si," Ana confirmed, "ah, yes, after the weekend at the sea. Jaimecito was very excited. He loved the sea. He said he'll see the sea often now."

"Who?" I asked, this time not earning any negative response from Louisa.

"Ah, Jaimecito," Ana smiled, "eh, little Jamie."

"Ah." I confirmed and nodded, looking immediately at Louisa to check if I'd overstepped my boundaries in asking, but she didn't look cross, so maybe that was alright.

"Yes, Ana, that's when it all began. Actually, Martin," Louisa fingered for my hand and I didn't dare to draw it away, although I felt embarrassed about this familiar gesture in front of Ana, "surprised us with this trip to Portwenn. Portwenn is the village I come from. I lived there almost all of my life. I was head teacher there before Martin and I decided to come to London."

"Nice." Ana smiled at me and relaxed a bit.

"Yes, it was very nice of him. He knows that I care very much about my village, and about the school there. You have to understand that there is a problem with the school there. If they don't find a new head teacher soon, it'll be closed."

"¡Carajo! ¡Es una vergüenza!" Ana shouted. "Sorry, that's a shame. I know."

"Yes, it would be a shame. However, Martin has agreed to move back to the village, so that I can try to do for the school all that I possibly can."

"Really, Dr. Ellingham?" Ana looked at me incredulously.

"Yes." I answered curtly. Why was it so difficult to grasp for everybody that I was not a selfish arsehole not considering anyone else's needs?

"Muy bueno, very good. Nice." Ana now smiled more openly at me. "I am so glad for you." Ana told Louisa.

"Yes," Louisa was grabbing my whole arm now, clinging on to me. "For me it is the best thing possible, and that's why James is looking forward to seeing the sea every day. However, that also means that we will move out of this flat, move out of London, and move back to Portwenn."

"Ah."

Louisa let my arm go and leaned forward. "You see, Ana. We would really like you to look after James in future, but we won't be in London anymore. So we wanted to ask you if you could imagine moving to Cornwall with us?"

"I see." Ana replied tentatively.

"You don't have to decide on the spot." Louisa added. "I know it's a big decision. You can think about it. We won't be leaving for Cornwall until the end of August. Until then, you are certainly needed here and will have the job. We would like to employ you also afterwards, but that's really up to you."

Ana nodded. "Graciàs. Thank you. I…will think about it. But I don't know. I mean, I don't know Cornwall."

"Maybe you can get some information, try to find out if you would like to go there."

"Difficult. I mean, I can read. Look in the internet. But how can I decide? I do not know."

I looked at Louisa. I had promised that I would just listen, but as they seemed to be stuck, I thought it would be useful if I would make a suggestion. Louisa, however, didn't look into my direction.

"Maybe," I started and Louisa looked at me, but didn't try to stop me, "you can come with us the next time we go down there. We will have to travel to Portwenn several times over the next weeks. If you don't have anything better to do, you can have a look at the place first hand."

I turned to Louisa to check her reaction. She was smiling and nodding, so it wasn't too bad.

"That's a very good idea." Louisa nodded, then turned to Ana. "Would you like to come to Portwenn with us? For a weekend? Then you can have a look around and see for yourself if you'd like living there. Just tell us soon enough so that we can get you some accommodation. It's a lovely little spot, a harbour town, just about a thousand inhabitants and they are all quite friendly."

I grunted in response, as that wasn't how I remembered the natives of the village of the damned. Louisa nudged me with her elbow.

"Si, I can look. That's better. I would miss James terribly. He is such a sweet boy. I don't mind small villages. I come from a rather small fishing village. Everything closes there, too. Sad, very sad."

Louisa looked triumphantly at me. "So you don't insist on staying in London? You can imagine moving to Portwenn?"

"Si, I will see."

_To be continued…_


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Later in the week, Louisa came home in the evening after a meeting for her charity. She had dropped the news that she wouldn't be able to support them for much longer.

I had prepared our meal that night, knowing that Louisa would be home rather late, at least too late for me to eat if she had to prepare the food. So I had prepared everything so that we could eat the moment Louisa came home, which was still slightly too late for me but still acceptable.

Louisa told me excitedly during our meal about the reaction of her friends from the charity, how shocked they had been. After they had realised how happy Louisa was to return to her home village, everyone was allegedly happy for her.

They promised they would give her a huge farewell party.

"You're invited, too, but I suppose you won't come." Louisa added, her head slightly cocked.

"Gawd, no! Ghastly."

"Shame really." Louisa took another mouthful of her salad. "They all would love to meet you."

"Whatever for?"

"Just meet you. I've told them so much about you, they'd just…"

"You…_what_?" I asked alarmed, putting knife and fork down.

"Don't worry." Louisa smiled at me. "I only spoke well about you. They simply want to meet the man who's prepared to downshift his thriving career to make his wife happy. Those men are a rare breed. You're lucky if you catch one." Louisa beamed at me. "But I already told them that parties are really not your favourite thing and that you'd probably rather babysit for James."

"You bet."

"You mind if I go?"

"Your funeral. When?"

"That's not decided yet. Probably close to our departure. So some months to go."

"Ah. Right."

"So you can cuddle on the sofa with James and have a good read while I'll represent the whole family. How does that sound?"

"Acceptable."

"I thought so. If you keep reading all those journals to James, he'll be fit for a medical exam before he even starts school."

"That's rubbish."

"You'd love if he'd become a doctor, wouldn't you?"

"Not yet. He should finish school first."

Louisa chuckled. "That would help, I suppose. But afterwards?"

"There are worst professions than the medical."

"That's true. It's a very important job and you would probably like if he followed the family tradition."

"No."

"Come on, whenever I hear about any Ellingham, he was a surgeon or at least a doctor of sorts. Don't tell me your family tradition doesn't mean anything to you."

My fork and knife hovered above my plate, midway. I hadn't thought about it that much before, as James is so little and so young and all this is so far away.

However, I just know that I won't turn him into something he doesn't want to be. Least of all to please all the Ellinghams proceeding me, all but one being dead anyway.

I looked at Louisa. "_You_ are my family. You and James."

I continued to cut my meat.

Louisa looked pensively at me for a moment. She also kept eating and I hoped this subject would be closed. A couple of bites later, she stated.

"You never told me what happened when your parents visited you in Portwenn."

I groaned.

"It seemed you were a bit troubled, but you just ignored my offer to come over to my place. Didn't you want to talk about it?"

"No." I kept eating, concentrating completely now on my meal not stir up unpleasant memories.

Louisa looked at me, from the other side of the table.

"I see."

Louisa took a deep breath, obviously to clear her thoughts as she continued much more cheerfully.

"So, what if James wants to be…oh, I don't know…a carpenter, a social worker, or musician even?"

"Then he won't become a doctor."

Louisa looked at me, quietly assessing me. "Just like that?"

"It's no good forcing people into professions they don't want to do."

"So even if he wanted to be a musician, it would be OK with you?"

"I wouldn't recommend it."

Louisa smiled almost relieved. "So you _would_ mind."

"As far as I can see now he seems to be completely unmusical."

Louisa had to be careful not to choke on her food as she was starting to laugh out loud. "Oh Martin, you and your sense of practicability are priceless." She snorted. "But you're absolutely right. With the musicality that he has proven so far, he'd probably starve to death."

I looked a bit puzzled at first. I really never had thought about it, but maybe some parents really had the expectation that their offspring should followed in their footsteps. Like my father expected me to be a surgeon. Like Bert expected Al to be a plumber.

I didn't expect James to be anything. To be honest, the thought of this tiny creature being grown up and old enough to have a profession was still purely theoretical for me. It seemed too far away, although my rational mind told me that in about 15 years he would have to think about what to do with his life.

However, I could honestly say that I didn't mind what he would do for a living. If he wanted to be a plumber, then so be it. Or a clockmaker. Or a theoretical physicist, be my guest. Whatever makes him happy.

I realised that maybe I really wasn't anything like my father. That would be a relief.

"Or maybe he'll become a teacher." I added, looking at Louisa.

"Becoming my successor as head of Portwenn Primary?" She smiled.

"Who knows?"

"Indeed. Who knows. And he can be all that. He has the brains and the opportunity and the freedom. Isn't he lucky?"

"If you look at it that way."

"I do, Martin. I do."

_To be continued…_


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Later that evening Louisa wanted to watch some comedy series about the suffragette movement. Utter nonsense in my opinion, but Louisa seems to love it. Over the years I have learned not to question her taste in TV, as I would probably never find an explanation why she likes what she does.

For me, television like any other medium, is foremost a means of acquiring information, be it from the news or documentaries. For Louisa, it is mostly idle entertainment.

If I have no important reading to do, I usually join Louisa on the couch, no matter how silly I think the program is.

Louisa lay at the opposite end of the settee, resting her feet in my lap, and I slowly massaged them. Louisa stands around a lot in her job, making her feet ache in the evenings. It seems that if I knead them, their condition improves.

At least Louisa's mood certainly improves. She's now relaxed and has cuddled closer into her cushions. I have also found out that if I give her positive attention in the evenings, she doesn't seek consolation in a glass of wine, which she occasionally is prone to.

"Ah, that's nice." Louisa purrs when the program is over. She switches off the telly instead of searching for something else to watch. I continue massaging her foot. "Today was complete bonkers. It seems now that everyone knows we're leaving, all of them suddenly remember something that definitely has to be done. It's absolutely crazy."

Louisa released a sigh. "Gosh, you really have the most amazing hands. What about you?"

"Huh?"

"I mean at work. Just the normal madness or everything's going crazy?"

"People ruining their health, getting their bill for it, are being prepped up, I slice them open, my assistant sutures him up. Next."

"So pretty much the same?"

"Yeah."

"And about the research project you were telling me about?"

"The preparation at Imperial is pretty much sorted, and it makes more sense to get the Plymouth side going when I'm down there."

"Has Robert forgiven you for sacking in?"

Where did this sudden interest in my job come from? Louisa was usually more on the talking side, I was the listener. It was highly suspicious that she suddenly showed interest in my daily job.

I froze in my actions and looked fully at Louisa.

"What do you really want?" I finally asked.

"Uhm...just interested." Louisa sat up, shuffling closer towards me, but starting to play with a strand of her hair. A sure sign that she was up to something. "Well, in fact - I've been thinking."

Oh, goody. If Louisa starts like that, I'm prepared for the worst.

"Yes?"

"About converting the cottages."

"Ah."

"What do you think, are two bedrooms enough, or shouldn't we better make it three?"

"What do we need three bedrooms for? Unless you want us to have separate bedrooms?"

"No, of course not! That's not in the least what I meant." She rubbed my back to prove her point. "I just thought…maybe…."

"There is our bedroom and James'. Or do you intend to invite guests?" I tensed up at the thought.

"Relax," Louisa said. "I told you, our home shall stay private. I promised you and I mean it."

"Then I don't understand."

"I just thought…we seem to be getting closer as a family, more than we ever have. Maybe it would be time…maybe…", Louisa bit her lip, "…maybe we could try for another child."

I groaned. "We're a bit too old for that now."

"What do you mean? We've hardly passed our sell-by-date."

"No, but our procreation date."

"I'm merely forty."

"_Over_ forty."

"But just."

"Still. We left that for too long."

"So until when do you think it would have been acceptable?"

"Mid-thirties. That is the latest date I'd advise to any woman. Especially as I am even older, making the problem even greater."

"But I just met you when I was in my mid-thirties. I could hardly have dragged you to bed immediately after your job interview to get the breeding out of the way in time."

"That would have been..." Louisa cocks her head, "highly inappropriate."

"But you're saying I've left it too long, regardless of the fact that it wouldn't have been possible earlier. Besides, you left it for too long too, unless you have some illegitimate children running around of which I know nothing."

"Nonsense, but that's not the point."

"Why is it with me and not with you?"

"Uhm…well…it was never in my plans, really."

"But it was in mine, and I'd always hoped to have a couple of kids."

"Louisa, as a doctor I can just strictly warn you that the risk of disabilities of children raises significantly when the parents are past their mid-thirties."

"I had James when I was 37, and he turned out just fine."

"Yes," I nod to emphasize my words and to somewhat calm me not to react too strongly at this irrational clinging to old dreams, "and we are very lucky that he is."

"Yes, we are very lucky how James turned out. That's why I would like to try again. Our gene pools seem to mix well. The result so far is promising. We should give it another try."

"Only because we've been lucky once doesn't mean we'll be lucky again. Chances are even higher now that there could be problems. Dramatically higher."

"I know many women who still have babies in their forties and everything goes fine."

"Louisa, I can bring you a couple of studies showing the statistical relation between the age of the parents and the disabilities in children and the number of miscarriages. Medically I can only strongly object."

"I'm not asking you as my doctor."

"But _I am_ a doctor."

"Sure, sure you are, but you're also the potential father. What does the father in you say?"

"I don't want to be responsible for a lifelong misery of any child of ours because we didn't follow basic medical advice."

"No one says he or she would be disabled. It could be a completely happy, normal healthy child. We can never know!"

"And I prefer not to find out, because it could have a number of genetic defects."

"Or do you just not want another child and find a handy excuse in our age? Do you regret that we have James?"

"No. NOOO. I love James. However, we do have to be realistic. We are lucky. We should be thankful and not force our luck. Besides, do you really want to miss several weeks of sleep again? Are you still that fit? With James being a bit older now, at least we can start doing things together. Just the two of us. We couldn't if we had to care for another child, especially not a disabled one."

"It sounds as if you almost want babies to be disabled."

"Of course I don't _want_ them to be disabled but it is a distinct possibility. Maybe you should just think about it?"

"Actually, I've thought about it for quite some time. But you, maybe you can think about it too?"

"I will bring you some studies. They are very informative."

"Martin, I know plenty of women in their mid- or even late forties who have tried for babies and they've got perfectly normal, healthy children."

"Did they also tell you how many miscarriages or abortions they had while trying for a child?"

"Who says they had?"

"Who says they had _not_?"

"You can't just sit here and accuse them of aborting a child with no facts at all!"

"I'm not accusing anyone. However, statistics say that about 50% of pregnancies in women over 40 end in spontaneous abortion. Most of them, however, within the first five weeks, so that the mothers mostly don't even realise they have been pregnant. Then you have to add those who realised during a pre-natal that their child would be severely disabled and decided for an abortion. Would you be able to do it? Would you be strong enough to lose a child?"

"No one says that we would lose it, and if most…" Louisa snapped her fingers, "what did you call it…ah…spontaneous abortions happen without being noticed, so there wouldn't be any psychological trauma. Or would there?"

"No," I try to remain as patient as I can, "but in case you do notice, would you be able to bear it?"

"Martin, if you really want something, then you've got to risk something. You can't expect that it just comes to you. So, yes, for having another child I guess I would take that risk."

I breathed in deeply.

"And you do realise that at our age it wouldn't just happen. We would have to try at least three times harder than at the normal procreation age."

Louisa sneaks her hand into my hair. "Hm? Three times harder, at least? Do you mean _more often_ or _harder_?" Louisa purrs.

"Don't be ridiculous!" I try to jerk my head back so as to be able to concentrate.

"Actually, I wouldn't really mind trying harder with you." Louisa tucks her feet up and leans against my shoulder, sneaking her arm around my shoulder again. "If that what it takes."

I try to shuffle away, as I want to keep my head clear for the rest of the discussion. "Stop it!" I try to remove Louisa's arm. "This is not funny."

"I wouldn't say that. If we have to do roughly what it took to get James, and if my aging memory doesn't play any tricks, then it was – actually – quite some fun. Or do you think we would have to do something different?"

"Don't treat this so lightly."

"I wouldn't mind trying something different, either, if you think that'll work better." Louisa used her index finger to draw circles in my hair.

"It seems you think this is all about fun!"

"Look," Louisa stops her ministration and leans against my shoulder, looking at me, "I don't suggest doing anything fancy. Just bin the condoms, throw away the pills, do what comes naturally and see what happens. If anything happens, good. If not, then it won't."

"It's not just as simple as that, is it?"

Louisa runs her hand over my hair. "You know, you're just worrying too much. Give your head a rest and just go with the flow."

"But think about the risk!"

"And you'd better think about the fun." Louisa pecked my cheek.

This wasn't going as I had hoped for. Louisa might be willing to take that risk, but I certainly wasn't.

"You also realise that with your age chances are that you'll have to take it a lot easier than you did before. Possibly weeks of bed rest to minimise further risks. You'd need to be monitored closely and cared for."

"I'll always have you." Louisa rubbed my shoulder. "If I'm sure of anything, then it's that you would give me the best possible care I could have."

"I would try. Certainly. However, I can't do much if you don't listen to me, and we both know that you wouldn't. That you would stubbornly carry on as if nothing has happened."

"I am not completely irresponsible." Louisa protested.

"May I remind you on you shifting furniture seven months pregnant?"

"That was different. I didn't have anyone. I had to do it on my own."

I looked at her. This accusation had hurt, especially as it has been clearly the other way around.

"You do know that is not true." I said slowly, to keep my temper in check. "I would have been there for you. Always. You just didn't let me."

Louisa rubbed her nose. "Well, it didn't feel that way back then. But what about now?"

"Sorry. I can't. I'm so sorry."

_To be continued…_

_._

_Note: The TV program Louisa was watching was "Up the Women" on BBC4. I quite liked it and so I made Louisa like it, too._


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Later that night I was woken by a nightmare. I hadn't had one for quite some time even though they had been a regular disturbance of my night sleep for years, but during the last two years they had been few and far between.

I woke up startled, sweating heavily, experiencing palpitations and worst of all, I was having these horrible images in front of my internal eye.

I needed cool water - to drink and to cool my neck. I tried to sit up on the edge of the bed as carefully as I could not to wake Louisa.

Trying to get up, I realised I was a bit shaky and I had to keep sitting for a little while longer.

.

I had to sit for a while, my head buried in my hands. I couldn't shake it.

I'd had nightmares before, many times, and they had changed over the years.

No, that's not correct. I added different subjects. There were three major topics, so far.

First there had been the ones triggered by the fear of my father and the bullies at school. That dream has stayed with me since I can remember, but seemed to have faded away over the last year or so.

Then, after I had my breakdown in the operating theatre, there were some rather bloody dreams that kept me tossing and turning. In them I mostly created a mess because of a minor slip during a standard procedure, all ending with me fighting to keep the patient alive, while she was bleeding out on the table. Strangely enough, I was always operating on female patients in these dreams.

I mostly had them after I had experienced a bloody incident or I was preparing for an especially unpleasant procedure.

A couple of years back, my latest addition to my nightly horror cabinet was dreams about losing Louisa. They had started after her taxi incident on the moors, and I've lost her countless times since then due to all sorts of reasons, and I always have to stand by and watch her die, helplessly.

These dreams are generally brought on when Louisa and I have had a row, or when Louisa has been sick.

This night's dream was new. Great. Exactly what I needed. A new addition to my tortures.

Suddenly I heard Louisa's drowsy voice behind me.

"Anything wrong?"

"No." I lied.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I just need the loo."

Finally I felt strong enough to get up and use the bathroom.

The disgust I felt after my dream was still lingering in the pit of my stomach. I had a good old throw up into the loo.

Gawd, how many times have I been through this routine? My stomach really couldn't digest my troubled thoughts well.

I splashed cold water onto my face and rubbed my neck with cool hands.

I brushed my teeth to get the vile taste of my stomach contents out of my mouth.

Then I stood in front of the mirror doing some breathing exercises.

Finally I felt strong enough to return to bed.

However, as soon as I was lying down and closing my eyes, the pictures were flooding back in. It was of no use.

I sat up again. Again sitting at the edge of the bed hoping the night might end soon. A glance at the clock however revealed that it was merely 3 am.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't tell me you still need the loo."

"Go back to sleep."

"Are you having nightmares again?"

"I'm fine."

"You're breathing hard, you're sweating and you're sitting on the edge of the bed when you should be sleeping. _Thank God you are fine_!"

"I will be in a moment."

The hand disappeared and I heard the bed squeak.

"Where are you going?"

"Now I need the loo. And I _really_ just need the loo."

I kept sitting on the bed, trying to control my breathing and most of all my thoughts.

I heard the toilet flush, and a moment later Louisa came out of the en-suite. She stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at me sadly. Then she shook her head. I watched her silently, hoping that she would just return to sleep.

Of course I was wrong. She slowly came over to me, squatted down before me, steadying herself against my knees, trying to look into my face.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

"I really think you should, you know? You will never shake this dream if you don't get it off your chest."

I shook my head again.

"This dream - is it always exactly the same, or does it vary?"

Louisa obviously had informed herself about nightmares. That was my doing.

I breathed in deeply. "This was a new one." I sighed.

Louisa's mouth dropped. "Oh." she rubbed my knee "And I thought your nightmares were getting better. You haven't had one over the last couple of weeks, have you?"

"No". I shook my head sadly. I also had hoped that they would be fading away, but maybe they were just gathering momentum to hit me big time.

"You're really sure you don't want to talk?"

"Yes."

I had never told Louisa about any of my nightmares. They were a pure product of my ill imagination and they were not worthy of troubling Louisa with.

If I hadn't been able to tell her about the bullying dreams or the blood ones, I certainly couldn't tell her in what way she had died this time in my dreams.

And if I couldn't tell her that, I certainly couldn't describe the images of this night to her.

.

Louisa had told me she was pregnant. She was all over the moon. Her belly was swollen, but she couldn't feel any movements. She was really sick during the days.

The first examinations went normally. However, I was worried about her poor state. I checked her over constantly but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary, except for some strange sounds on the Doppler monitor which I couldn't place at all.

Then the day of the scan came. Louisa was excited, especially as it would be my first experience to see a child of mine '_live'_ in the womb.

Louisa was holding a finger of mine while the scanner rubbed over the jelly on her belly.

.

And then it came into sight. Crouching in the womb. A strange alien having taken hold of Louisa's body. Strangely shaped, so that I couldn't decide at first if this _thing_ was severely deformed or from a different species altogether. It was menacingly grinning straight at me. The strange sounds I had taken up on the Doppler made sense now. It was hissing at me.

I had to avert my eyes, but Louisa seemed to be oblivious to the monstrosity she was carrying and happily prattled on. She tried to reach for my hand, but I couldn't stand to touch her. Not when she was carrying this monster I helped to create.

.

It was then that I woke up. Sweating. Panting. A cry stifled by the bile collecting in my throat.

How could I tell Louisa a dream like that?

"I'm tired." I simply stated and rolled onto my side.

"Have you ever considered professional help?"

I was shocked. What did she take me for? That I was screwed up needing a quack? I looked at her and obviously she read my thoughts correctly.

"Can't blame me for trying. Just wanting to help is all."

Louisa simply scrambled over me to get to her side of the bed, facing me.

"Sure you can sleep now?"

"I've got to. Hard day tomorrow."

"Is that what's got to you?"

_No, Louisa. You're bloody idea of trying for another child. _Especially as I was more sensitive regarding this subject at the moment anyhow.

My assistant kept on and on about he and his wife having their first child. He kept me informed of every development, the first scans, the first light flutter he could feel through his wife's skin, then the first kicks. He told me as if I knew what he was talking about, as if I was someone who could share his experience.

Probably he had picked up that I had a son. Maybe he took it for granted that I would know. I just nodded whenever he told me something and shifted my concentration back to the next procedure we had to perform.

But the seed was sewn. I was reminded of this huge void in my life. The void in my relationship with Louisa as well as James.

I was never able to honestly confess at that time how much it would have meant for me to feel the first kicks, drive Louisa to her scans, to care for her. It was painful to stand by and watch again, how life was happening around me and I wasn't involved.

.

When Louisa talked about trying for another child, these neglected needs pushed their heads up, shouting at me that this was the opportunity to have all that, all that I'd been missing before.

The only problem is that I am a doctor, and I know of the dangers and I know it would be medical madness, and I know I would never forgive myself if a child had to suffer because I acted irresponsibly.

By now, Louisa had managed to nestle my head into her neck. She was rubbing my shoulder.

"If I just knew how I could help you." She whispered into my hair.

"Stop talking about another child." I gulped the moment I'd said it. But Louisa wanted to know, and that was the only thing she _could _do.

_To be continued…_


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65

I managed to get through the day somehow, although I was tired and frustrated and angry. Mainly I was angry about myself. Angry that I had to take everything so seriously. Angry that I couldn't just follow my heart. Angry that I couldn't allow myself to experience fatherhood beginning with the first result of a pregnancy test.

Part of that anger was just coming to the surface where it had been lurking for the last couple of years. Louisa and I had never really talked about why she had felt the need to shut me out of her pregnancy completely. On the other hand, I also hadn't told her how deeply hurt I'd been at that time. How devastated. How unworthy I had felt, knowing that Louisa wouldn't even accept a simple lift to the pre-natal exam from me. Actually, she accepted more support from everyone else in the village than she had accepted from me.

I also still hadn't figured out what had made her change her mind in the end. I still couldn't begin to understand what made her even offer to come to London with me, an offer I should have never accepted knowing how much she loved her village.

The only thing I knew for certain was that moving to Portwenn now was definitely the right move.

The way the research project was developing and the work waiting for me in Plymouth and Truro made me at least hope that this time, there was not too much of a career break connected with it. What I had to do did sound interesting and I was looking forward to it.

Now that everything was about to settle nicely, Louisa had opened this new can of worms. I can bet that I haven't heard the last of this discussion.

I also knew that I wouldn't be able to give in. I couldn't take that risk. Louisa said she was prepared to take it, but she didn't know all the risks and generally made her decisions by the heart.

No matter how much I longed to be there when Louisa first suspected; no matter how much I longed to do the pregnancy test together, staring at the little display to show the result; no matter how much I longed to hold her tight when the positive result was shown; no matter how much I longed to see the first blurred pictures on the scan; no matter how much I longed to stretch my trembling hand out to feel the first movement of the foetus in her belly, my hand guided by Louisa's to the area where I could feel it best, a mere flutter first but getting stronger and stronger over time - all this wasn't worth the risk of ruining a child's life, wasn't worth a lifetime of impediment, wasn't worth Louisa's unhappiness and maybe even depression if she did lose her child or had to face for a fact that it would never be able to live a normal life.

Louisa assumed last night that I didn't want any more children. She couldn't have been more wrong. However, sometimes you simply have to accept that you can't get what you want, that fulfilling your egoistic dreams would be irresponsible.

I had to think of the family I had now. It had been rocky enough, my road to this little haven, and I certainly had never expected to get anything like it. So I was grateful for what I had. Asking for more could ruin it all.

I've seen families being put to the test by the arrival of a disabled child. It would affect us all.

Louisa couldn't possibly continue as head teacher, as a disabled child would occupy her whole energy and time.

We wouldn't have time or thought for each other as a couple, as we both would have to concentrate on caring for the child.

James would have to learn that he couldn't have our attention as he used to have. He would have to grow up fast to learn to be responsible for his little sibling. He would have to learn to accept it.

And I wouldn't be able to stand my own image in the mirror knowing that I had known the risks and acted against my better judgement.

There was a knock at the office door and I shook my head to clear it.

I had to concentrate on my work again. I also had responsibilities here.

.

When I came home, Louisa was preparing our meal in the kitchen, singing along to the radio and swinging in time to the music, while James was sitting at the table and was colouring the animals in his little colouring book with a serious expression.

I stopped in the doorway and couldn't help but think that I would ruin all this if I gave in to my irrational wish brought on by an unprocessed feeling of rejection. If this wasn't perfect, then I didn't know what could be.

"Oh, you're early!" Louisa looked around at me and kept stirring whatever was in that pot.

"Uhm, no, not really."

"Then I'm running late. Sorry."

"Can I help?" I stepped towards her and pecked her cheek.

"No, not really. Just freshen up and then tea will be ready."

I walked over to James.

"Good afternoon, James. How was your day?"

"Uh, Dad," my son held a dark red pencil up to me, "do you think I can use this for a robin? I like it, but Mum says it's too dark."

To be honest, I couldn't care less about the colour of robins and I was about to tell him that he could use whatever suited him. After a moment, which I needed to get a chair and sit down next to him, I realised he deserved a better answer.

"Actually, the chest of robins is of a lighter shade of red. Wait," I took my smart phone out and googled _'robin'_. Frustrated about all the men called '_Robin'_ popping up in my display, I specified _'bird'_, which lead to far more accurate results. I reached the device over to James.

"See. That's what robins look like, and it is really a lighter shade of red than you intend to use. However, in painting there is this concept of _'artistic licence'_, so no artist is bound to depict reality as it really is."

"Huh?" James looked at me with big eyes, scratching his head.

"Sorry, uhm, have I been too complicated?"

Louisa laughed behind me, "You're doing fine for an art lecture."

"See, no one will take your picture to know how robins look like. It is just for you to enjoy. So, this picture is more about your liking than about a robin, and that is called _'artistic licence'_."

"So I can use this colour? Even when it doesn't look like the one you've shown me?" James held his pencil under my nose. "I like the colour."

I ruffled James' hair. "If you like it, use it. No problem."

"Good." James smiled.

I got up to freshen up.

When I came back into the kitchen, Louisa was laying out the plates. I helped her lay the table. I had come to love having our tea. Louisa and James both competed to tell me how their day has been. They joked and fooled around and they addressed me, in that way including me into their happy little world. Meals were a far cry from the solitary silent affairs I had for years, almost all my life. I was brought up not to talk during meals and I realised now how much more boring that was.

Being with James and Louisa and hearing their stories of the day also brought to my attention that there was a world outside the hospital. A world far away from my experience. Trying to follow their stories helped me to leave the work behind. Something I've never been able to do before.

I knew that my daily routine would soon dramatically change again, with the impeding move to Portwenn. However, I was pretty certain that this part of the day would only change in the respect that the topic of conversation and the protagonists of their stories would change, but we would still be gathered around the kitchen table when I came home, followed by a companionable washing up while James played for a bit and then I would take the little rascal to bed, make sure he'd brushed his teeth and then read to him.

_To be continued…_


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

When I joined Louisa in the lounge, I could see in her body language that the cosy part of the evening was over.

Whenever the TV isn't on and Louisa makes sure that we sit on opposite sides of the table, I know she has some serious matters to discuss. Mostly it means I'm in trouble as I've done something again to annoy her.

Silently I took my place at the trial and waited for the prosecution.

Louisa started playing with a strand of hair, obviously not sure how to start.

"Martin," she started after a short pause and her voice was firm, but she didn't seem cross, "I know you asked me not to bring this subject up again."

I sighed. I guessed as much as this subject wasn't closed just because I explicitly asked for it. "Oh, goody." I leaned back in my chair.

"Sorry, Martin. I just have to understand some things, before I can let it rest. I really think it's important."

"Sure you do." I was determined to keep my cards close to my chest. I didn't intend to upset Louisa just because of my silly dreams and fears.

"Last night, your nightmare..."

"It's a dream. Nothing more. Not worth wasting our evening on."

"Pardon me for being concerned when I see you in distress." Louisa jumped up and started pacing the room. Maybe that was another reason why she didn't tackle sensitive matters while sitting on the couch, as the table makes jumping up tricky. "You looked as if you'd seen a ghost and when I used the loo I could swear I could smell that you'd vomited."

"Ah."

"You did, didn't you?"

"Ah...uhm..." I didn't want to lie and I had no idea that she had noticed and she had really caught me on the wrong foot.

"I'll take that as a yes. And just to make one thing crystal clear - if a dream causes such a physical reaction, it is no waste of time to talk about it."

"I'm sorry, I'll try not to do it again."

"How are you going to achieve that?" Louisa stood in front of me, arms akimbo, head slightly cocked.

"I'll try to be more careful when I have to get up."

"Stop it, Martin. You really think I'm complaining because you woke me at night - which you didn't do, by the way?"

"Uhm...not complaining, but..." I looked down.

"No buts." Louisa squatted down in front of me as she had done the night before, trying to catch my eye. "Martin, we need to talk about this. Don't you think it's painful for me to see you in such distress? I really want to help you, but you've got to _let_ me. If you don't say a word, I don't know what's going on. I'm no mind reader. At least you gave me sort of a hint last night, and I've thought about it. I simply want to understand better what's going on."

"Louisa, it was just a dream. I don't want to talk about it."

"And if I insist?" Louisa stood straight looking down at me.

"I'm no good at talking." I replied in despair.

"I think it is essential that we do talk."

"Why? Everything was fine today."

"As long as you're not sleeping, that is. So I wouldn't say that everything was fine."

"I functioned perfectly well. " I declared looking sternly into her eyes. What was she thinking of me?

Louisa stared at me, then shook her head with a strained smile on her face. "You're not being serious now?"

"Of course I am. I had quite a demanding procedure to do today and everything went well."

Louisa went over to the arm chair opposite me and looked me straight in the eye. "Do you really think you're a machine and simply judged by the way it is functioning? You're no robot which is out of order if something goes amiss."

I cleared my throat uncomfortably.

Louisa leaned forward in her seat. "I know this must be uncomfortable for you. No matter how long we've been together you still avoid talking about how you're feeling. But if you want us to go on with the wedding, you'd better endure this now."

What was that? My head bobbed up alarmed. "Do you really mean that?"

Louisa nodded slowly in my direction. "Yes, Martin. I'm sorry. It's the only way I can go on with it."

"But why? It has no bearing on you?"

"It has _no bearing_ on me? You are in agony and it has _no bearing_ on me? Martin, what sort of marriage would that be?"

"I would never let it out on you, you know that?" I assure her tenderly.

Louisa shook her head again and her hair bounced in rhythm of her movement.

"Believe it or not, this is not about me."

"Then I don't understand."

"Well, maybe it is also about me, because I don't want you to make me lie."

"What? That's rubbish!" Louisa's comment made absolutely no sense to me. I am the last person to tolerate lies, least of all encouraging Louisa to do so.

"Is it, Martin? So if we are going ahead and tying the knot, and I'm at the altar, making my vows - to be with you in sickness and in health - how can I keep that vow in your opinion? How can I keep it if you don't trust me enough to even tell me when you're sick, troubled or miserable? How can I promise to care for you if you shrug me off whenever you feel vulnerable? Hm, Martin?"

"I can manage."

"Sure, you can manage so well that you have to spit your guts out into the sink in the middle of the night."

"The loo." I corrected her. "I used the loo. The sink gets blocked easily."

"Oh, that makes it so much better, doesn't it? I'm glad I consulted an expert. I can only guess that you are still suffering from your old-fashioned upbringing and that everyone at your bloody boarding school hissed _'sissy'_ as soon as one of the boys cried."

I cringed, as I'd heard that far too often in my time.

"I see. But views have changed since then and I guess it is widely established that men do have feelings and that they do have a right to express them. And if you can't let your guard down here, in the sanctuary of your own rooms, of what use would I be to you?"

"You are. Very much." I assured Louisa eagerly.

"Not the impression I get. See, you are always there for me, caring for me, now you just keep giving more than I ever hoped for - you've got to see that I can't just be at the receiving end. I want to be equal partners."

"Absolutely." I nodded affirmatively.

"Share your life with you."

"Definitely." I nodded again.

"Not just your bed."

"What?"

"Martin, I'm not just a sex partner..."

"Of course not, I...I..." gosh, is that the impression she's got over the years. I was shocked and started to stutter. "this is...is...never...how I saw you...us..." I had managed to compose myself and leaned forward to assure her in a low voice. "You do know that I will always be there for you. In _every_ way."

Louisa jumped up and turned around. I looked at her back wondering what I've done now to make her cross. Before I could get up to walk over to her, Louisa turned around and her index finger pointed threateningly towards me.

"That is just the point! But you don't let _me_! And before we stand at the altar and I make promises I know I won't be able to keep, we have to get this sorted!" Louisa sat down again and rubbed her forehead.

"You've got to learn to trust me enough to let me into your dark corners. And I bet there are plenty of them. I can't even imagine the maze of horrors your psyche is, especially as I think you never did anything to clear that mess. But if I want to be serious about us being partners, I'll have to face it. You've got to face it, too. I see no other way. And don't worry about me - I can take it. And you don't have to worry about the way I will see you. I wouldn't be with you if I hadn't realised long ago that you are not as insensitive as you try to appear."

_To be continued…_


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

"Besides, you won't be able to run away forever. I do accept that you've never told me anything about yourself, your childhood, your parents. It's weird, really, as I know almost more of the past of my workmates than that of my future husband. But you don't like to talk about it and I accepted it. But what will you do if James starts asking about his grandparents? Hm? Will you brush him off like everyone else? Doesn't he have a right to know his own family?"

"They're hardly family. You don't even know them."

"Exactly. I don't even know them. Not even from photos or narration. But they are James' family nonetheless, and he has a right to know, don't you think?"

Suddenly I had a lump in my throat which I tried desperately to clear. I'd never thought about it that way. For me, family was Louisa and James. All the rest were just unpleasant memories. But how often had I asked patients as a GP about their family history. It's an important part of anamnesis. If for nothing else, James needs to know about the medical history of his genes.

Louisa was calmly assessing me, not saying a word. She just watched me intensely.

"Don't you think it would be easier for you to face your son's questions when you've got rid of a few ghosts? Hm?"

"I...uh..."

"Maybe _everything_ would be easier for you if you could dust away some cobwebs. I can help you. I will try."

"Louisa, strictly speaking it is none of your business."

"I wouldn't make it my business if you'd get professional help. As soon as you have an appointment with a therapist, I won't say another word about it."

My mouth fell. Louisa was really serious about this and I didn't like that at all. It seemed I only had the choice of which humiliation would be easier to bear.

"Don't be daft!" This whole discussion was just a tad too undignified for my liking.

"I bet if you had a patient with recurring nightmares, you'd refer him to get professional psychological counselling."

"I am a surgeon. I don't talk about nightmares."

"And when you were a GP? Hm? You never referred anyone to a therapist?"

"Uhm...occasionally." I had to admit truthfully.

"And in a case like yours? What would you have recommended?"

I sighed as I didn't want to answer that question. Louisa was right to assume that I would have recommended psychological assessment.

"Martin? A patient with recurring nightmares causing severe physical reactions - what would your line of action be?"

"I can't go to such platitudinising eunuchs?" I sighed.

"Not much trust in your peers?"

"Strictly speaking they are not my peers."

"Why can't you go?" Louisa asked calmly and the way she kept looking at me in this calm but intense way made me very uneasy.

"If that came out, the hospital would naturally assume I had a relapse and wouldn't be fit for action."

Louisa rubbed her nose. "Right. I see." She paused a moment. "Maybe you've got a point."

"Good. Well." I tried to get up. "I suppose the consultation is over, then." I smirked with newfound confidence.

"In your dreams." Louisa quickly replied. "Sit."

"But.."

"I just agreed that professional help has certain dangers. I didn't say you couldn't talk to me instead."

"You?"

"Yes, Martin, me."

"But you're not qualified."

"No? Really? Don't tell my school, as teaching involves a good deal of listening."

"To eight-year-olds." I reminded her.

"Their problems might be different, but they are distressed nonetheless."

"About a broken pencil and the death of their favourite pet?" I sneered.

"Sometimes, yes." Louisa answered firmly. "Or because their father is in Afghanistan and they're scared something might happen to him, or their mother has breast cancer in the final stages or their brother has been run over by a car. There are all sorts of problems really. And the dead hamster can be equally distressing."

I paused. I had never thought of it that way and always assumed children have '_children's problems'_, and that would be what Louisa was dealing with in her school. But children live in an adult world and they are affected by the adult problems.

"I don't want to burden you with my silly ideas. It's nothing, really." I tried a different line of defence now.

"Stop it, Martin! Haven't I made myself clear? I _want_ to share your burden. Stop mollycoddling me. I am grown up and pretty much able to look after myself, thank you very much. You don't have to protect me like...like..." Louisa waves her hand in the air, "...like some porcelain doll! I am real, Martin, flesh and blood and even a bit of brains. I'm dealing with all sorts of problems day-in, day-out in my job. I also have to deal with many cases of social hardship of all sorts - bullying, child abuse, depression, psychological disorders, burnout...I've seen it all and dealt with it and I'm still alive and functioning."

"Then there are those street kids. Do you really think they're living rough because they are loving it? Most have the most devastating family histories and simply couldn't cope."

"I know that I will get to the edge of an abyss when I try to make you open up. I guess I have an inkling of what I'll be getting myself into. Still, I bet it's ten times better than lying next to you night after night wondering when you might have to excuse yourself next to slip to the loo to throw up."

"You don't need to worry about me."

"No Martin? That's not the impression I got last night?"

"I can deal with it. I always have."

"Not well enough, I'd say, or you wouldn't keep waking up almost having a heart attack. I read a bit about it and talked with our psychologists at the charity..."

"What? You talked...about..." I waved my hand between us.

"Relax. One of our teenagers had horrible nightmares and I talked about _him_, but I also used the opportunity to address some general questions. So, no one can have even the slightest idea about what you're going through at night." Louisa leaned forward. "Your secret is safe with me." She leaned back again, all the time her eyes were upon me. "However, I took the chance to ask how you would get information if someone was less than happy to talk about their nightmares as our candidate has been, if someone didn't want to disclose any information at all."

Suddenly I noticed a big flaw in Louisa's description.

"You're having me on! You wouldn't have had enough time for all that today! Didn't you say you didn't even have a meeting today?"

"Last night was not your first nightmare. I asked some time ago, but then your nightmares seemed to be getting better and I thought I didn't have to put you through all this. After last night's experience I think I've got no choice."

"So what's next?" I asked demonstratively, trying to regain my composure. "Shall I lie down on the couch and wait for Mr. Freud to depress the hell out of me?"

Surprisingly, Louisa stayed absolutely calm. "You _can_ lie down if that'll help you. You don't have to."

"I…I…really don't have time for this." I declared slightly panicky as Louisa seemed dead serious and determined and the prospect of soul searching scared the life out of me. "There is an important article that I am supposed to finish before we leave for Cornwall. You'll excuse me?"

I got up from my hot seat, but I couldn't bring myself to turn away as Louisa calmly and menacingly told me in a low voice.

"If you leave this room now, Martin Ellingham, you don't have to bother to buy a ring and you'd better think of some explanations for the architect why you're calling the work off. We have a good practise of running away – yes, Martin, I know that I have, too – but this has to stop once and for all. When we're married, we can't run off either. So you either sit down and talk or you can call a taxi as I will be leaving."

I was frozen in shock. Louisa was so dead serious over this trifle. I couldn't understand it. I was terrified.

"I don't really talk." I uttered at a last attempt to save myself the ordeal. "I'm not good at it."

"I know you're not and I tried to think about how to make some progress with you without giving you the chance to withdraw into your shell or me driving you mad with my insistence on making you talk. I know you don't want to tell me what happened last night. But you can't stop me thinking about it and I have some questions for you that you can answer with a simple '_yes'_ or '_no'_. So no painful soul searching and revelation. You just have to give me the chance to make head and tail of it."

"Really, I think…"

"You do far too much of that. Just respond with a simple '_yes'_ or '_no'_. Doesn't sound too difficult."

Louisa got up, dimmed the lights and sat in the arm chair, signalling me to sit opposite her.

_To be continued…_


	68. Chapter 68

Chapter 68

"So the nightmare last night….was that the only cause of you throwing up? I mean you're not sick or anything?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what? Gosh, I have to be more careful. It's not as easy as it seems. So the nightmare was the only reason."

"Yes."

"You said it's the first time you had this dream?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure it was brought on by our discussion about another child?"

"Yes."

"So your dream was about this other child, or my pregnancy, birth or something like that?"

I gulped. I had to agree with Louisa. Simply answering yes or no wasn't as easy as it sounded. I nodded silently.

"So something did happen to me during the dream?"

I shook my head.

"The child then?"

The images flashed back into my brain. I breathed in deeply and tried to get control and keep my emotions in check as I saw that '_thing'_ hissing at me again. I closed my eyes, but that only made it worse. I felt my palms getting wet. I ran my hand over my trousers. I tried to clear my throat to get that lump out of the way.

Louisa watched and leaned forward. "That bad? Must have been a horrible sight. Like '_Rosemary's Baby'_ or something?"

I buried my head in my hands and breathed in and out. Finally I collected myself. I looked up to Louisa. "Who's Rosemary?"

"I should have known. You're not really an experts on 60s film classics."

"No."

"It's a movie about a woman being raped by Satan and carrying his child."

"But that's rubbish."

"The film isn't, the idea is, I suppose. I just mean, you must have seen a child from hell if the images were so potent so as to make you throw up."

"Y..yes."

"So you're really panicky because of the slight chance that a child with parents of our age could be disabled? That's enough to make you toss and turn?"

I nodded again, finding it easier than to say those words.

"But that's not really logical, is it? I mean, a disabled child is also a blessing. And if it would be too badly disabled, the tests during pregnancy would show and then there are measures you can take. You as a doctor know that best. So it cannot just be the medical side."

"Yes, it is." I confirmed immediately.

"Oh, that was quick. A sure sign that it wasn't entirely correct, I'd say."

"Yes, it is." I said with more conviction now.

"Would you feel guilty if something went wrong with the baby?"

I paused. "Yes."

"But it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't even be sure it could have been avoided ten-fifteen years earlier. Still you would feel guilty?"

"Yes."

"So you're afraid of the responsibility?"

"What?" I've taken responsibilities all my life. I never had any problems with it.

"I don't want to suggest that you're irresponsible, far from it. But this specific issue, you don't want to be responsible for?"

"No."

Louisa paused a moment. "Is it because it's out of your control?"

"What?"

"I mean, you can't really do a great deal about it, can you? It's pure chance which of your sperms would impregnate me, and it is pure chance if there was any genetic damage or not. It's the same with me. There are quite some eggs left – some good, some damaged, I guess - but you can't check if that particular month a genetically intact or damaged cell is released. You can't chose or decide. You have to take a chance. Is that's what's bothering you? Being subject to chance?"

Actually I had never thought about it that way. It sure was troublesome to have decisions of such fundamental nature being made for you by chance.

I remembered Dr. Milligan way back when. '_Isn't being a surgeon about being in control?_'. Was I really simply a control freak, getting completely out of my depth if something came up which was out of my reach? Would I be as much frightened by the idea if I could carefully plan it? Wasn't Louisa's light comment about doing what comes naturally and simple seeing what might happen making me completely uneasy?

I was pondering over this question, while Louisa watched me thinking. It was a weird situation and I felt more and more uncomfortable. I rubbed my hands along my trousers. I felt the sweat on my forehead.

Louisa waited calmly for an answer and I wasn't sure what to say to make this stop. If I said "_yes_", would she be satisfied and let me go? If I'd said "_no_", would she believe me and accept that my reservations were of a purely medical nature? Should I answer at all? If I did, she would just ask the next question, and who knows where that would lead me. But what would she do if I didn't answer at all?

"Martin, is it your main concern that you're out of control? A simple '_yes'_ or '_no'_ would do." Louisa reminded me on the question still lingering in the room.

"Rubbish." I muttered testily.

To my surprise, Louisa continued calmly.

"Is it just the matter of our age?"

"Of course it is! I explained to you…" I said louder than I'd planned, but this whole thing was getting on my nerves.

"Or is it pregnancies in general?" Louisa kept on as if I hadn't answered at all.

"It's a completely natural condition that doesn't present even a tiny fraction of the risks that were common even sixty years ago." I informed her.

"Or is it _our_ pregnancies in general?" Louisa specified.

"What do you mean – '_our pregnancies_'. You've only been pregnant once! I had nothing to do with it!" I practically shouted at her and was startled by my own vehement response.

Much to my surprise, Louisa didn't explode but I could swear that I could even detect a small smile around her mouth in the dimness across the room.

"Yes, I had noticed that. Was that the reason you were so…insufferable during _our_ first pregnancy? That you had no control over the situation?"

"Now, could I? You never let me near you! You ignored sound advice and endangered yourself _and _James Henry! All I could do was to stand by and watch! And now you're talking about me not having control over the situation! And speaking of insufferable…"

"Are you still hurt about the way I treated you?"

"What? You…? No! Your choice!"

"I wouldn't really say that I had made a choice at that time. I was a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation from start to finish. Would it help to tell you that I didn't _choose_ to shut you out, but that it somehow happened? That I somehow felt trapped? Let's face it, we both hadn't had much control over what was happening. You lost your self-control once after your proposal, and it had life-changing consequences for both of us. So we just happened to be in a situation, we both didn't plan. Actually, I was pretty sure at that time that it was also a situation that you didn't want. I just didn't want to force you to be something that I thought you didn't want to be?"

"And what would that be?" I lashed out at her.

"I thought you didn't want to be a father, and I thought I'd spare you that. Martin, I know now that I was wrong. I apologize."

That was unexpected. My mouth fell and I felt a bit deflated. The anger that had been building up inside me was suddenly gone. Louisa's quiet ways had just taken the wind out of my sails.

"Uhm…yes." I nodded.

"Are you afraid I'd turn into the same hysterical cow that I was the first time?" Louisa asked completely matter-of-fact.

"No! You weren't…"

"Yes, Martin – I was. So do you think it would be the same the second time? That we'd be back to square one?"

"I…don't know."

"But you do realise that circumstances are completely different now? We've been living together for a couple of years now. It would be a conscious decision, not just an accident. We would be in it together from beginning to end. Maybe it would be a chance to do it right, this time."

"Uhm…"

"I see."

Louisa was quiet for a moment, which was a pleasant change as I had the opportunity to gather my thoughts and regain some of my composure.

"What if you were more in control?" Louisa finally asked.

"Huh?"

"Last night, I sprung this question about another child on you. You didn't see it coming. Again, you weren't in control. What if you were in control from now on?"

"How?"

"Well, you know now that I'm generally open to the idea of having another child…"

"You're determined." I corrected her.

"That's a bit strong, but I'm not lying to you – I think it would be good for all of us. But leaving that aside for now. I will let this subject rest."

"Really?" I cocked my head. That was quite unlike Louisa.

"Really. It is up to you _if_ or _when_ you'll address it again."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you don't."

"As simple as that?"

"Yes, Martin, as simple as that. Maybe you can consult a gynaecologist you trust, getting an expert opinion. Maybe there are measures to reduce the risks. I said I wasn't thinking of anything fancy, but if that's what you're more comfortable with, I'll go along. No problem. If you'd feel more comfortable if we had some examinations to prove that we're not that decrepit yet, then let's do that. You're in control."

"And if I don't think it's safe, no matter what?"

"Then you just don't have to mention it again ever. Then this chapter would be closed."

"And you wouldn't be disappointed?"

"I think I would always think of what might have been. I think I would regret that we didn't at least try. However, I know that you're not selfish and that you would consider what's best for all of us. I trust you and your judgement completely."

"But yesterday you said you'd be prepared to take that risk?"

"Yes, Martin, and I still am. I think I'd be prepared to pay that price for having another child with you. However, the price I'm not willing to pay is seeing you in distress."

"Louisa?"

"I think I understand now." Louisa declares finally. She leaned back in her seat and looked at me from the other side of the table. I preferred not to look at her and simply stared at the tabletop.

Finally Louisa got up and sat on the armrest of my armchair. She rubbed my back. "How are you, hm?"

I wearily looked up at her, but didn't want to give her an honest answer. Maybe she just meant well, but after a long demanding day a torture like this is the last thing I needed. I felt completely washed-out.

"Exhausted?" Louisa asked, still rubbing my back.

"It's been a long day."

"Yes, especially as I decided now to get to know you better, after three years of living together. You must think I'm crazy."

I looked at her and would have loved to agree, but I'd had enough confrontation for one day.

"So what now? Do you want some time on your own, clearing this puzzled head of yours," she dishevelled my hair, "or do you need company?"

_To be continued…_


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

I thought for a moment, but then I knew what I needed. "Give me some space."

"Right." Louisa got up, and astonishingly enough she didn't seem in the least peeved by the answer. "I have some marking to do anyway. Can I make you a coffee?"

"You?"

"I know you normally do it yourself, but I hoped I could spoil you?"

"No need, I can make myself an espresso." I tried to get up, but Louisa put her hand on my shoulder.

"Just lean back and relax. I'll bring you your cup. Want any music?"

I shook my head and reclined the back of the chair.

Louisa nodded into my direction. "Take your shoes off. Better for the blood flow."

I quickly sat up. "What?"

"I'm not living with a doctor for nothing." Louisa laughed and I leant back.

This flat has superb insulation. Albeit being in the heart of London, no sound from the big city reaches the inside of these rooms.

I looked at the dimly lit ceiling and suddenly, it was too quiet for my liking.

Only when Louisa came silently into the room to place my espresso on the nearby table, was I able to hear soft shuffling over the floor.

"Louisa."

"Your espresso."

"Uhm...thanks."

"Anything else I can do? Otherwise I'm in the kitchen."

"Maybe..."

"Yes?"

"Maybe you could put on a CD?"

"With pleasure. Which one?"

I knew exactly what I would like to hear. Something absolutely logical and clear and simple. Bach's partitas for violin are always a good choice in cases like this.

While Louisa disappeared into the next room, the sound of the vibrating strings started to fill the room. The air around me started to undulate. A mixture of frequencies and amplitudes were stimulating my ear drums, which amplified the small air movements and turned the changes in air pressure into mechanical vibrations of the ossicles in my ear.

The vibrations of the ossicles were then transferred to the perilymph of the inner ear, creating waves that were rushing in the rhythm of the violin.

Then the sensitive hairs in my inner ear picked up the storm in the otherwise tranquil ocean of the endolymph fluid and activated the ion influx in my Cochlear nerve.

Then an internal concert started, carefully conducted by sodium, potassium and calcium ions and an auxiliary army of neurotransmitters. Millions of nerve cells sending energy along the lines and then, at the end of the axiom, they caused a dance of millions of transmitter molecules.

Energy and substance were engaged in this relay, until the energy finally reached the cerebrum, the conscious part of the brain, where all these waves and currents and molecules were translated into something that almost exceeds the material world. Something powerful. Something potent to make sense when all your thoughts are just tumbling over each other.

There, the absolutely logical and orderly collaboration of chemistry and physics create such different things as my nightmares, the contentment in being with James and Louisa, my former bloodphobia and its cure, the bliss when I'm with Louisa, the anger when something does not go to plan, my joy when I do something to bring happiness to my family.

No matter how long I'm dealing with the human body, the chasm between the understandable metabolism and its sometimes irrational manifestations is still mind-boggling to me. It can even make you believe your best friend is an invisible six-foot squirrel.

Right now, the actions of my nervous system had a calming effect on me. My head stopped buzzing and I had the feeling that I could see things a lot clearer.

I was not angry at Louisa anymore, either. I had been. It is a defence reflex I have had as long as I can remember. Whenever someone tries to get closer to my emotional turmoil I lash out at him and everyone else either gets angry with me – and I have a long amount of training to deal with it – or simply leaves me alone – which is the optimum outcome. No one has ever refused quietly to back off. No one has ever invaded my inner life the way Louisa has done now.

It was disturbing. It was puzzling. It was highly uncomfortable.

But now, as the last chords of the music die away, I can accept that she did it with the best of intentions. I am able to see it not as an aggressive assault on my privacy but a caring attempt to make sense of my distress.

I still hadn't reached the stage of being grateful to her for her attempt. I am not sure that I will ever reach that stage. However, I have developed a tolerance and acceptance for her insistence.

I remained in my reclined positions a couple of moments after the music had stopped. I didn't hear a single sound.

I was knackered, and the effect of losing much of last night's sleep was taking its toll.

Finally, I got up, switched the CD player off and went into the kitchen.

Louisa had her back turned towards me, standing at the kettle obviously fixing herself a cup of tea. Papers were scattered all over the kitchen table. Louisa did have her own little office area, however she seemed to prefer to sit in the kitchen. She hadn't noticed me yet.

I stood in the door frame to watch her for a moment, how she was quietly attending to her own business. How she looked when she felt unobserved. The pure Louisa, who was nobody's mother or wife or teacher, who was what she was. I liked to see her like this, when she didn't feel obliged to fulfil any obligations.

She dumped a tea bag into her mug, a habit that I can't stand as loose tea is generally of better quality and not really more time-consuming to make. She turned around and now she noticed me. She flashed me a smile.

"I'm off to bed." I declared and stood straight up again.

"Tired?"

"It's getting late."

She placed her mug beside an open exercise book and came towards me.

"Do you think you will be able to sleep better tonight?"

"Yes." There was really little else I could say, because I didn't really plan to have an uncomfortable night like last night either.

Louisa put her arm around my waist and reached up to peck my cheek. "I haven't finished my marking yet. You mind if I stay up a bit?"

"Quite alright."

"I'll try not to wake you when I come upstairs."

"Uhum." Louisa looked up at me and her eyes were searching mine. I had expected her to mention our conversation earlier, but obviously she wasn't going to, for which I was grateful.

I put my arm around her waist and drew her closer. She nestled her head against my neck and I rested my head on hers.

"Don't be too long." I whispered into her hair. Then turned to go to bed.

_To be continued…_


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Finally we had a date for the viewing of Mrs Avrill's house on a Saturday afternoon. Louisa had to shift a few appointments and James had to cancel the birthday party of one of his playmates, but that didn't seem to be an issue. Louisa had asked Ana if she was free that day to join us, to check out if she could imagine moving with us.

Ana had to make some amendments, but was happy to do so. She said she was quite excited and from what Louisa had told her, the village sounded lovely.

My guess was that her first impulse after setting foot in the village of the damned would be to run a mile. However, I kept my mouth shut, remembering Louisa's outburst the last time I criticized her village. Ana and Louisa would find out soon enough, even without me putting my foot in it.

So four train tickets were booked this time. Louisa and I paid of course for Ana. Business trip.

As it turned out, having Ana on the train proved to be quite favourable for us. Together, Ana and Louisa managed to keep James' enthusiastic anticipation in check somehow. James started the journey asking every five minutes how long the train ride would be. After telling him for the third time that it would be still four hours, my patience was wearing thin. Louisa signalled me to keep out of it and leave it to them.

The two women managed to get this little rascal distracted long enough that he only remembered to ask every thirty minutes.

What's more, Ana and Louisa really seemed to be enjoying the trip.

I used the opportunity to catch up on the latest Journal of Vascular Surgery.

At Bodmin Parkway, Al was waiting to pick us up, faithful as ever. He must have been waiting for some time as the train wasn't as faithful, unfortunately.

Running well behind schedule my greeting to Al was just a short nod, as we had to be at Mrs Avrill's house in half an hour. No time for chit-chat.

Women in general and Louisa in particular have a different approach, unfortunately.

She found it necessary to hug the plumber's son and kiss him on the cheek. As if it was any of his business, she felt it necessary to introduce Ana at full length.

"Hello Al, so good to see you. How's everything? I guess you haven't met Ana yet?" Louisa pointed towards our au pair, as if there was any possible alternative who Ana might be.

Ana looked down, then peeked up at Al, before reaching out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Al."

Ana spoke so softly that I could hardly understand her. Why couldn't people talk at a decent sound level and not make a hearing test out of it?

"The agent's waiting." I tapped my watch impatiently.

Louisa didn't seem to notice me or maybe I had turned invisible all of a sudden, as no one was paying attention to me.

Louisa kept prattling on about facts regarding Ana that couldn't possibly be of any interest to Al.

"Ana's our Spanish nanny. She's a star and we really wouldn't know what to do without her. So, as we are planning to move back here, we thought it would be reasonable to try to find out if Ana would like it here and maybe could move with us."

"Ah, Spanish." Al mumbled. "Hola. ¿Cómo está? Bienvenido a nuestro pueblo."

I turned on my heels. "You speak Spanish?"

Al craned his neck, scratching his jaw.

"Not really. Just a few bits and bobs." His eyes turned towards Ana again. "I always wanted to make a tour of South America. I learned a bit of Spanish, just enough to survive."

Then he turned to Louisa. "But then came Dad and his restaurant and with the budget being a bit tight…" Al scratched his stubbly chin. "You know?"

"So you never went?" Louisa asked, putting a hand on his arm as if he had to be comforted for not having to spend time under the blazing sun and in probably dubious sanitary conditions.

"Nah. Who knows? Maybe it's for the best. Africa turned out to not be so dandy."

"I have an aunt living in Costa Rica." Ana added, as if this was of any consequence.

"Sounds nice. You visit her often?" Al prolonged the meaningless tittle-tattle.

"Always wanted to. She always urges me. But, you know."

"Yeah, yeah I do." Al sighed.

"Estate agent. Viewing." I tried to focus this bunch of people making imaginary travel plans.

"Sure, sure. He won't leave if we're two minutes late." Louisa was relaxed, while I was tapping my watch.

Al was the first to remember the timetable.

"Right, Doc. Let's go everyone."

"Ana, do you mind waiting for us with James while we are touring the house" Louisa asked shortly before we reached the car. "We can show you the village afterwards."

Al unlocked the car and looked at Louisa. "I can show her around, if you like. Keep James off your feet and you can take your time." He turned to our nanny. "If that's OK for you?"

"That's perfect, isn't it, Martin?" Louisa quipped. "If that's not too much trouble for you?"

"Nah, my pleasure." Al smiled his crooked smile. "After all, what better guide could you get?"

Ana added an idiotic "I'd like that" and the arrangement was sealed.

At last, we could get into the car and off to the village. Al parked the car at the top of the village and we strode down the hill on foot. That is, I tried to stride, but the rest kept well behind talking and giggling and dawdling. My constant reminders that we'd be late for the appointment were put aside by a gesture telling me not to worry.

I hate being late. No, that's not quite correct – I feel positively nauseous if I don't keep an appointment which could be easily kept. It's unnerving for me. After all, I don't want my time being wasted, so I can't waste other people's time.

So I was torn between wanting to hurry downhill and not leaving the rest of the family too far behind.

Surely enough, when we finally reached the cottage, we were already ten minutes late. What was even worse, no estate agent was in sight.

"Now, great!" I started to shout at the group that was slowly approaching. "Now we've missed him." I turned away in anger. "Blast! The whole journey for nothing. ABSOLUTELY nothing!" I felt like kicking something and the dust bin really looked appealing for this purpose, but seeing James at Louisa's hand made me re-think. I would hardly be a good example for the little fellow and I wouldn't really appreciate it if he'd copy such behaviour.

Instead, on arrival of Louisa at the cottage, I grabbed her hand and started to head uphill again.

"Martin, what _are _you doing?!" Louisa shouted at me while I was dragging her forward, with her having James in tow.

"Well we've missed the appointment anyhow. We may as well head back." I declared.

Louisa tugged at my hand, obviously wanting me to stop, but we had wasted too much time already.

Finally she broke free from my grip and stopped on the spot. That was all I needed, Louisa making one of her scenes in public. Oh goody!

I turned around. "What?"

"I'll stay and wait." She declared, slightly tapping her foot.

"Wait? What for? For the cows to come home?"

"For the estate agent, of course."

"We've missed him. Definitely. We may as well go back without trying to blend into the scenery first."

"We are just a couple of minutes late…"

"Ten."

"Right, ten minutes late. You don't honestly suggest that the agent arrived dead on time, didn't see anyone here and then turned on his heels to head back home when a deal is to be made? No one would do that."

"I would."

Louisa, rubbed her nose. "Well, no one sans one, then. You're quite unique anyhow."

"So, how long do you propose to wait?" I asked rather tensely.

By now Ana had fingered for James' hand and manoeuvred him towards her. Al had stepped to her side and while I was waiting for an answer, Al chipped in. "Eh, we'll be off, then. We'll leave you to it…whatever…ya know."

He motioned to Ana to get going, but that spurred me into action.

"Wait! Where will you be going? When will we have our child back?"

"Ah, right Doc." Al scratched his chin again. "I just thought we'll make a tour of the village."

"That can't take long." I stated which earned me a warning look from Louisa.

"Yeah, well…How long do you reckon you'll need? I thought about two hours? Meeting you here again then."

"We won't need two hours! Never!" I protested.

"Oh, Martin! Maybe we do. Besides, it wouldn't make much sense for them to get going and be back in fifteen minutes. I bet we'll find a way to kill the time."

"I am not in the habit of killing my time."

"Unfortunately." Louisa muttered.

Before I could react, a sturdy car passed us by and we had to step back. The windows wound down and a man addressed us.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ellingham, I presume?"

"We're not married." I grumbled as I still hated to put that straight.

"However, that'll be soon put right." Louisa added cheerful as ever when talking to complete strangers. "And you must be the estate agent. I'm sorry, but Martin forgot to give me your name."

I hardly forgot. I didn't know. I mean, I had heard it, but didn't think it was worth bearing in mind.

"Mr. Brown's the name, and yes, I am the estate agent. I just have to park my car and I'll be right with you."

Great start, I thought, looking at Louisa's triumphant look. I hate business relationships that start like that.

Meanwhile Ana and Al excused themselves and we waited for the belated agent to finally start the house tour.

_To be continued…_


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter 71

When we came out of Mrs. Avrill's house, there was no sign of Ana and Al. We tried to reach Al on his mobile, but the provider was acting up again. We got the same result when we tried Ana's number. I was getting restless.

"Bloody backwaters! Now our son is on the run with two youngsters hardly old enough to look after themselves, and we can't even find out where they are!" I snapped my mobile close, completely frustrated.

"Calm down!" Louisa touched my chest as she always did when she felt I got agitated over a trifle. "It's not as if James is in the care of idiots. Ana cares for him all the time, and if Al is capable enough to manage a farm, then he should be able to manage looking after our child as well. Let's stroll around and see if we can find them."

"Right." I stowed my mobile away and marched into the general direction of the harbour.

Immediately I felt Louisa grabbing my sleeve.

"Ho-ho! I said stroll, not stampede!" Louisa stopped me. Then she linked her arm with mine. "So let's have a look around the harbour. Maybe someone has seen them"

"I bet they all have seen _something_, some would have even seen things that aren't there." I grumbled, having to accept walking down the hill at a glacial pace.

"The viewing went quite well, don't you think." Louisa started to chatter, completely unfazed that our son was who-knows-where.

"It's a ghastly house!" I couldn't imagine how anyone could actually live in a dump like that. The rooms were small and suffocating and not even a minimum of hygiene and sanitary standards had been maintained. "I wonder if it was ever tidied up."

"I certainly don't mean the interior, but as we want to re-build the whole thing anyway, it doesn't really matter. Don't you think?"

"Gutting and doing it anew is all that helps there."

"And that's exactly what we're about to do, so I don't understand your grumbling."

"Hm." To be honest, my foul mood was less contributed to the state of the house as to the fact that I was worried about James. I craned my neck to see if I could catch a glimpse of him and his two childminders.

"I don't understand why they haven't done more about the sea view. I'm sure you can use that to more effect, don't you think?" Louisa kept on about the house.

"I'm no architect."

"Sure, but if they could do it in my cottage... I really hope they can do something about that."

"And the headspace on the stairs." I added, looking carefully for any sign of James.

"Yes, that would be quite uncomfortable for you, and who knows, maybe even James later, if he takes after you." Louisa let my arm go to rub my back. "He's quite big for his age already."

"Hm."

"You're not really listening."

"Sure." I'd learned by now that this was one of the worst accusations a wife can make, so I'd better not admit to it, although my mind had been elsewhere.

"We'll find James soon enough, don't worry."

"I..." I spotted Bert Large, and if anyone knew what was going on in Portwenn, then he was it. If he wasn't such a moron, I wouldn't even be surprised if he had GPS surveillance for all villagers installed. However, he probably didn't even know what that was.

"Oi!" I tried to get his attention and jogged the few yards towards him. "Al, where is he?" I demanded to know.

"Ah, Doc. Back in the old village, eh? Couldn't stay away forever. That's what Portwenn does to you. Once it's got you, it never lets you go. Missed the old harbour, eh?"

"Don't be daft! Your son - where?" I snapped my fingers at him. I mean, this was a simple enough question, even for Bert's standards.

Obviously Louisa had caught up with me, as Bert was now looking past me. "The big city didn't really improve his manners." Bert was pointing at me with his thumb. "I can't understand how you can put up with him."

"I can hear you." I reminded him sternly.

Louisa greeted Bert with a hug and a kiss on his cheek. I grimaced as I couldn't understand how a usually civilised person like Louisa could voluntarily touch a nasty piece of humankind like Bert. "Bert, so good to see you!" she cooed.

She linked arms with me.

"This village never changes. It's so _lovely_ to be back."

"The Doc also never changes. I told you years ago, just go with the flow."

I was about to explode to explain to that moron that we were talking about our son and his whereabouts, but I felt Louisa squeezing my arm and looking at me in a clear warning.

I shut my mouth.

"Martin is just worried because we cannot get any reception on the mobile and don't exactly know where James is. He's upset, is all. You don't know by any chance where Al has gone to?"

"If it weren't for him, I'd have a better idea what my boy's doing." Bert nodded aggressively into my direction. "Now you know how it feels."

"Your _boy_ is over 30! Ours is three! There _is_ a difference, Bert. Besides, what have I got to do with anything?" It was difficult _not_ to lose your temper talking to this opinionated idiot.

"He's still my boy, and you've got everything to do with it!" This fat oaf shouted at me. "He was fine before you started supporting him with his stupid idea about the computers. There's no future in that! From then it got downhill and now he's the handyman for your bloody aunt! Your whole lot think you can mess around with other people's lives. Ah, shuff it!" Bert's beefy hand waved at me.

"Ah, this is useless, you controlling moron. Al is just living _his_ life, and stopped living yours. That's what nature does."

"Wait thirty years and see how it feels. Now you even had to bring that girl into town. Just..." Bert waddled away, mumbling, shaking his head.

"So this imbecile _had_ seen Al!" I was about to go after him, but Louisa stopped me again.

"Martin, you're just making it worse. Stop it. Bert is in one of his moods. You've got to accept that."

"Do you want to just stand here and wait until they materialise? You can't tolerate every behaviour?"

"Sometimes you've got to." Louisa tiptoes to peck my cheek. "Otherwise, where would _we_ be?"

She fumbled for my hand and squeezed it. "I think I know where I can get the information. Mrs Poustie is a true gossip, if there ever was one. If they had passed anywhere near her, she'll know. Including the exact time."

"Right. Let's ask her." I started to stride towards that nosy cow's house.

"Martin." Louisa tugged at my hand. "_I_ am doing the talking. Understood?"

"But..."

"You saw where your diplomatic talents led us with Bert. If we want to get information, you keep out of it."

Louisa cocked her head, giving me a warning look.

"Ah...eh...blast!"

"You can swear as much as you like, you're not going any closer to that house or I'll kick you. That would give the villagers something to talk about."

I had no choice. Arms crossed I stood on the spot watching my partner cheerfully strolling towards a crooked cottage which looked as old as the inhabitant.

Louisa knocked and I saw the small figure of the old lady appear in the doorway. There was hugging and laughter, and Louisa swung her handbag from one shoulder to the next. Heads were stuck together and thrown back again. More laughter.

Women! There was a child missing! No time for social nonsense. I was just about to throw Louisa's warning into the wind and march towards them, to shake the information out of this wreck if necessary, when I noticed that Mrs. Poustie started to point up the hill. I stopped in my motions and looked up my old street.

What the heck would anyone want up there? There is nothing. A few ancient houses and nothing otherwise.

A dead end.

Louisa laughed a bit more. Then she shook the elder woman's hand and patted her shoulder. Waving back, she approached me again.

"They went for a walk on the cliff path. Should be up there somewhere."

"Good."

"See, a little bit of friendliness, and you get what you want."

I just harrumphed as a response. I am pretty sure I would have gotten the information without sugar-coating this old rubberneck.

"_Or_," Louisa continued, "you simply have someone with you who can get the information for you, you old grump."

"I could have asked her. I can speak." I grumbled.

Louisa put her arm around my waist. "Yes, problem is most people don't want to listen to you. Might be because of the venom in your voice? It was easier and quicker this way."

We started our way up Roscarrock Hill.

"I just haven't got any idea yet where we should put your study." Louisa kept chatting while we ascended that hill.

_To be continued…_


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter 72

I noticed all three of the missing persons sitting on the bench a bit uphill of the former surgery. Al and Ana had put our son in the middle of them. I sighed relieved. I knew that my panic was a tad over the top, but I don't like it if I don't know where James is. Especially not in Portwenn, where anything can happen.

I allowed Louisa to slow me down now and we approached the bench at a slow stroll. Louisa clung to my arm.

"See, there was no need to panic." She told me in a low voice.

"Hm."

"Look at them? Such a harmonious picture. Just like a family." Louisa stated.

I looked at Louisa, trying to read her face. I had no clue what she was talking about.

"But it's _our_ son." I reminded her.

"James, yes, actually, I did notice that." Louisa squeezed my arm. "But look at Al and Ana."

"What about them?" I knew both people, and just because they were sitting on a bench didn't mean that they had developed any characteristics that made it necessary to look twice. It's not as if they had grown a second head or something.

"Don't you understand Bert's worries now?"

"Me understanding Bert? That _would_ be worrisome."

Louisa gave my arm a slap, but experience told me that it was playful.

"You! No, seriously. I guess he has a right to be worried losing his influence over Al for good."

"Huh?"

Louisa tugged at my arm and made me stop. She pointed towards the bench.

"What _are_ you actually seeing?" She asked me demonstratively.

"James, Al and Ana." I stated the obvious, a bit confused of what I was supposed to see.

"Don't you notice that their fingers are touching along the backrest of the bench?" Louisa nodded in their direction.

"It's a small bench." Again I stated the obvious. If they rested their arms on the backrest, there was no way of avoiding their fingers touching.

Louisa turned to stand in front of me. "Are you just playing dumb, or are you really so naive?"

I stared at Louisa, and back to the bench, then back to Louisa.

"So what is so noteworthy, in your opinion?" I asked a bit irritated.

"I would say," Louisa accentuated every word, then grabbed my lapels to draw me closer. She whispered her opinion into my ear.

Processing the information, I snapped back into a straight position and looked more closely.

"No way. Al's how much older than Ana?"

"And how much older than me are you?" Louisa smirked.

"That's something completely different." I grumbled embarrassed about Louisa's innuendo.

"As long as the man is still in top shape," Louisa ran her hands over my lapels, "then the man can be quite a bit older. It wouldn't worry me."

"Besides, they just met today." I pointed out, trying to stand my ground.

Louisa linked arms with me again and resumed our way uphill.

She glanced over, her eyes twinkling. "And how long did it take with you? Hm?"

"Uhm...uh..." I noticed that I was doing this stork step again, as Louisa calls it, with my knee completely stretched.

Louisa chuckled at my embarrassment.

I still didn't see anything out of the ordinary with these three people, but Louisa was probably right. In these matters she usually is.

I just saw that Al obviously had said something funny, as Ana as well as James were laughing and turning to look at him, while he sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

When James turned sideways, I saw something in his hand. I looked closer and my suspicion was verified.

I definitely saw something that shouldn't be there!

_To be continued…_


	73. Chapter 73

Chapter 73

"Oi! Don't! Don't eat that!" I shouted and tried to free my arm from Louisa, but she pressed her arm tight so that I couldn't get my limb completely free.

Ana and James were about to dispose of the offending objects at once, but Al stopped them and bent towards them, obviously lowly telling them something.

Ana spoke to James, and they both stayed on the bench, doing their business, while Al got up and walked towards us. He waved shortly with his hand, then tucked his fingers into his pockets.

"Hiya, Doc. How did the viewing go?" He asked casually.

"What? Doesn't matter." I pointed towards my son doing something he was not supposed to do. "That is not acceptable!" I yelled. "Shush! Out! Put that away immediately!" I called my son, but Al was blocking the way. Louisa tugged at my arm and James was distracted by Ana.

"Come on, Doc." Al nodded over to the bench. "It's not as if we drugged your child, nor is it?"

"You are feeding him unnecessary carbohydrates, unsaturated fats and probably a whole bunch of artificial flavours designed to manipulate eating habits of children in their developing years, inducing the irrational craving for more unhealthy food."

"Nah," Al shook his head, "it's homemade from a local dairy. Fresh as a daisy."

"Stop it." I heard Louisa hiss into my ear. "It's just a simple ice-cream cone!"

"That is not the point! James is not to have any ice creams!" I told them at the end of my patience.

"It's just one scoop of vanilla ice cream. Wouldn't do him any harm, now, would it?" Al defended his irresponsible action.

"Unhealthy eating habits induced during childhood are the main cause for obesity in industrial nations." I informed Al, although I also noticed that my protest was too late now, as James was already nibbling on the rest of his cone.

"One scoop wouldn't make him explode now, innit, Doc?"

"It always starts with just one ice cream, and then the whole eating habit gets out of control! Most diseases in civilised countries are at least partly rooted in outrageous eating habits." I lectured this boy.

"Stop it." Louisa repeated and accentuated her point by stepping on my foot.

"Louisa, I think you've got no idea...!" I tried to talk sense into her.

"Martin, I do know that we're just talking about a small ice cream, and not a participation in the yearly pasty eating contest!"

"Listening to you two, you would think that nothing happened at all!" I was desperately making my point that no one seemed to get.

"Martin, for the simple reason that nothing _did_ happen, did it?!" Louisa answered testily.

Louisa turned to Al. "I'm really sorry, but Martin is a stickler when it comes to eating healthily." She glowered over at me. "Bordering on an obsession." She added and I could hear her disapproval.

"So _excuse me_," I retorted exasperated, "I'm really sorry that I _do care_ about our son's wellbeing and that I want him to be spared having to inject himself with insulin for the rest of his life!"

Al chuckled. "You're really over-dramatising this one little portion of frozen milk."

"Al, do you have a medical degree?"

"Nope. You're the Doc." Al whipped back on his heels with one hand waved slightly in my direction.

"Then shut up. If you'd seen as many blocked arteries as I have, you'd know the risk."

"I just know that I've liked eating ice creams and sweets and pasties and even the occasional junk food for all of my life." Al took his hands out of his pockets and spread his arms, leaning backwards slightly and whipping on his heels. "And you can hardly call me fat, or can you?"

Al smiled his crooked smile at me and Louisa shoved her elbow into my ribs with power.

"Ouch!" I rubbed my side, as it really hurt.

I turned to look angrily at Louisa. She must know that the health of our boy is being sabotaged by the unreasonable behaviour of these post-puberty twenty-somethings. Instead Louisa gave me her warning look. However, this subject was too important, for James' sake.

"No, optimal BMI, I'd say." I had to admit, as Al is far from any weight discussions.

"See, Doc, with a bit of exercise you can afford to pleasure eat from time to time, ay, Doc." Al patted his tummy.

"Problem is that James isn't really getting that exercise, now is he?" I corrected Al.

"Actually, he did. I promised the little 'un a treat if he beats me running up the hill." Al spread his arms as if he was a helpless victim of circumstances. "So I had to pay."

I paused for a moment, glanced at the bench, where Ana just got up and took James by the hand, obviously about to join us. I looked back at Al. "Don't be daft!"

"Really, Doc." Al smiled at me and nodded his head, "That little tyke runs like a greyhound. I didn't stand a chance."

I saw James approaching. "No way!" I hissed at him, my brow furrowed and I knew what's been going on. "You let him win on purpose."

I had to control myself not to cry out in pain and just yelped a bit, when Louisa rammed her heel into my toes.

Al bent his arm behind his head and scratched his neck. "You know, Doc... Didn't you ever let the little 'un win?" Al whispered. I looked at Al, then at Louisa, who cocked her head. I gasped. I had to admit that Louisa had made me James win occasionally at Memory, as she pointed out that it wouldn't be fair that James couldn't stand a chance to ever win a game no matter how hard he tried just because of my over-average memory.

I don't see anything special about my memory, not something you can't do if you concentrate properly. However, Louisa dared me to let James win from time to time as he would just get frustrated and feeling low if he always lost.

I was hesitant at first, as I don't really think it is honest to give him the impression he can do something he can't. It would be important to him to assess his abilities realistically.

On the other hand, I can't deny that I always felt inferior to my dad as he had always been better in everything he did. Partly, as I realise now, as he only challenged me in things he knew he would be better at. I wanted to spare James this, and therefore eased my principles to allow James the occasional triumph.

"Well, _maybe_." I reluctantly admitted in a low voice. "But I never celebrated that deception with feeding him unnecessary calories."

"Yeah, Doc. I got the message." Al moaned.

Finally James had joined the group. To be exact, he was pushed forward by Ana.

"I am sorry, Dad." James stood in front of me and looked up, his head tilted backwards to manage to look into my face.

Louisa nudged me with the elbow and signalled with her look that I'd better say the right thing.

I sighed. However, not mainly because I felt the pressure from Louisa, and also not particularly because of James misbehaving, but mainly as I thought I knew what I saw in James' eyes. The way he was standing there, his little body towered over by a huge father figure, made me realise that I had to be careful not to cast too big a shadow. Not like my father had.

So I crouched down, so that James could relax his neck muscles.

"James," I addressed him quietly, keeping my anger in check, "I just want what's best for you. You do understand that?" He nodded, but it was obvious that he saw it differently.

"You do know that my job is to care for people's health?"

James nodded with more conviction now and stole a glance at Louisa.

"In my job I see many people getting very sick from eating too much of the kind of food you have just eaten."

James bit his lips, his brow furrowed. "How much is too much?" He asked.

I sighed, as there is no general answer to that.

Louisa looked triumphantly at me.

"That's difficult to say. Everyone shows the effect at different points."

"Was it too much what I have eaten? Will I be sick?"

I ran my hand through his hair. "No, James. You won't be sick. And this one scoop of ice cream hasn't done too much damage. The main problem is, and that is why I am so worried, is that when you start eating it, you get used to it. Then it becomes difficult to stop because you enjoy eating it. You did enjoy your ice cream?"

James looked guiltily down and nodded again.

"See. And then you start eating more of it, because you want to enjoy it more. And then it starts getting to your health. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Dad." James nodded, then looked at Louisa. "So I am never to have ice cream again?"

I sighed as I got up because James was already pleading for more of this rubbish.

"We'll see." Louisa chimed in, tousling James's hair, "We will see." She looked at me provocatively as she repeated her assurance to James.

_To be continued…_


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter 74

The next weeks kept me quite busy.

The viewing of the cottage had confirmed our decision to buy the place, so the bank had to be contacted to make some money available from my investments.

I contacted the estate agent to initiate the sale. I tried to negotiate with him regarding the price, especially considering the poor state the interior of the property was in and I had almost succeeded, when out of the blue another potential buyer popped up. So I had no choice but to pay the full price and quickly.

As soon as we had the ground plans of the property, we sent them to the architect together with the plans of Louisa's cottage.

All the while Louisa kept asking me if I had already done anything about our planned wedding or if it wouldn't be better if I let her do it.

I was never good in delegating work, so I tried to keep all the balls in the air, but one of them tended to drop all the time.

I was practically buried in work. At Imperial I had to train my replacement. Meetings were on the agenda all the time. Not only my leave from Imperial had to be organised, but we also had to establish the cooperation between Truro, Plymouth and London to make optimum use of all the facilities.

I was in contact with as many working groups at the same time as I've never been before.

Back home I buried myself into the papers regarding our move and the conversion of the two cottages.

One Thursday night, Louisa suddenly materialized in my study. She had never done that before. My study had always been my own space, and Louisa had never done more than pop her head in to tell me something. Always only after knocking.

This time she just breezed in and she was suddenly standing in front of my desk.

"Huh?" I looked up, too puzzled to form any coherent sentences.

"I've contacted the church." She declared unceremoniously.

"Church?" I was still dumbfounded by her invasion of my space.

"For the wedding - if you still want to, that is."

"Uh...sure, but wasn't I supposed to do that?"

"You can't do everything by yourself. I hardly see you anymore at all. You're working yourself to death."

"I'm fine."

"You always are. Besides, I told you I'd prefer to be married when we arrive in Portwenn, and that's not exactly ages away anymore."

"I know." I sighed, my eyes wandering over the papers scattered all over my desk.

"I would appreciate it if you'd find time before Monday to discuss the details of the wedding. If not, I'll do as I please."

"You really don't have to. I will get it done."

"But I really want to do it. You're just moving because of me, and to top it, you're having all the work." Louisa's hand waved over the desk. "I wanted to help you all along, but you're definitely better at planning and financing. I can give you my opinion, but I trust you'd be better at it than I would. The wedding is a different matter. I guess I'm better at it anyway. You're better at serious work, I'm better at the fun part."

"But we agreed I would do it."

"Actually, you told me you'd want to do it and I wanted to let you. So if you could make time before Monday that would be great." Louisa told me cheerfully and left me to my papers.

I tried to resume my work from where I had been interrupted, but that was easier said than done. Suddenly I wasn't sure anymore if the paperwork really was as urgent as I thought it had been. After all, on Saturday we would have the next meeting with the architect, getting the details sorted. Thankfully, this time we would go to the London office of the architect. We had been down to Cornwall quite a lot lately, and the train journeys were getting on my nerves.

Even Louisa didn't seem to be too disappointed, but was looking forward to a little lie-in.

On Saturday, we'd get the details fixed and the re-work on the cottages could finally begin. I turned my fountain pen in my hand.

There was still one major subject I hadn't decided upon. I had made a copy of the plans and then I had made some templates for the room sizes, how to fit them best into the existing structure.

I had two sets.

Option A would do without a family bathroom in favour of each of the two bedrooms having its own en-suite. It would provide us with two rather spacious bedrooms, luxuriously so. It would allow James to have his own private space.

Option B would have a family bathroom instead of having any of the rooms en-suite, simply to ensure at least a comfortable size of the three bedrooms. It could be decided on a later stage how to use the third room.

However, in the last couple of days a sort of Option C formed in my head, which could provide immediate comfort in the living arrangements now and options for later, which admittedly meant some work on the house in the future. Besides, this option would gain me some time regarding the far more serious decision that was connected with the question regarding the numbers of bedrooms.

As promised, Louisa had never brought up the question about having another child again. She never even hinted towards it. In a way, it was as if it had never been brought up.

But she _had_ brought it up. And I knew it was important to her. And I knew that she trusted me to make the right decision for _all_ of us. And I hadn't come up with any decisions as yet.

However, I had to come to a decision before Saturday as to how the rooms should be arranged upstairs, and that would have some sort of consequence of how easy it would be to have an addition to the family.

I stared again at the papers, and still couldn't concentrate. I knew the facts inside out now, but there had to be one clue to solve everything.

Louisa often complained that I couldn't let matters rest, or, as she had put it just now, that I worked myself to death. I admit as much as I feel more comfortable when I can do something useful, something practical. It has always been the only way to gain at least the respect of my fellow citizens and to manage to make others at least tolerate me. If I didn't do anything for others, I always felt useless or a burden or a damn nuisance. I took it for granted that people could only bear my presence when it had a practical benefit for them.

To be honest, that was the biggest revelation for me when James Henry was born. He smiled at me and grabbed me and clung to me and I didn't have to do anything in return. He seemed genuinely happy in my presence without any rows and explanations or expectations. I felt accepted.

Just thinking about it I suddenly realised that lately even Louisa mentioned a couple of times that she'd prefer to have me around rather than have me working. Wasn't that why she offered to plan the wedding?

I stared into thin air for a moment, contemplating the thoughts I had although I just wanted to get the planning for the cottage finished.

I came to a decision. Not a decision I had on my agenda for today, but a decision nonetheless.

I screwed the cap onto my fountain pen and put it carefully into its box. I sorted the papers into neat piles. Then I got up from my desk, switched off the light and left the study.

I found that Louisa had already gone to bed, so I carefully prepared for the night and then slipped into the bed. I folded my arms around her and held her close.

Louisa moaned slightly, then nestled into my embrace.

_To be continued…_


	75. Chapter 75

Chapter 75

The next day I couldn't concentrate at work. Thankfully I wasn't scheduled for any procedures. I did my rounds in the morning checking on patients I'll be operating next week and some I had operated on yesterday.

I tried to assess possible candidates to assist me in Truro and Plymouth with the research project and had selected three candidates in total which were worth interviewing before a final decision could be made.

However, my heart really wasn't in it and my mind was somewhere else entirely. I managed to manoeuvre myself through the day until Robert called me for a meeting. I freshened myself by splashing water onto my face hoping it would help me to concentrate and took the lift to the upper floor.

After a short exchange of meaningless pleasantries, which I never was able to stop any of my superiors doing but had pretty quickly stopped my subordinates molesting me with, Robert started to ask me if I had already chose the staff I planned to work with during our co-operation. I handed him the three CVs of the most promising candidates in my opinion. So far so good.

However, the longer the meeting proceeded, the more difficult I found it to concentrate on our conversation. My thoughts were always drifting off.

Finally I realised that Robert wasn't speaking and a short glance across the table confirmed that he looked expectantly towards me.

Bugger, he was obviously waiting for an answer, while I had no clue about the question.

"Absolutely." I agreed, as experience had taught me that superiors mostly expected their approval and in nine out of ten cases this manoeuvre would have gotten me out of this pickle.

Today was the tenth case, unfortunately.

Robert just whipped back in his chair, folding his hands behind his neck and the way he smirked at me told me I had applied the wrong tactics.

"Really?"

"Uhm…well."

"You have no clue what I was talking about. Since when exactly did you stop listening?"

"I am sorry. It shouldn't have happened. I…" I added weakly, feeling guilty and humiliated about my negligence. Throughout my whole school- and working life there had been just a few occasions when my mind wasn't completely on what I was doing.

Robert leaned forward and grinned at me. "No need to worry. Must have been a stressful couple of weeks for you."

"That doesn't excuse…" I continued, not accepting Robert's excuse as I myself would never let this explanation pass with any of my team, as in our line of action it is essential to give the highest attention to every detail for the patient's sake. Each slip of our mind can be fatal for others.

"I'm not going to bite your head off," Robert said, getting up and coming over to me, "I'd just suggest that you go home early today. Take a bit of a rest. Relax." Robert's hand landed on my shoulder. "Would do you the world of good, and we'll speak about it on Monday. No wait, I think Monday I've got to be somewhere. Tuesday then. Or some day, anyway." Robert kept babbling on while he guided me out of my chair and towards the door.

He practically shoved me out of the door and without knowing it I found myself in front of his office, a bit uncertain what to do next. While I was still clearing my head, Robert popped his head out again.

"And I expect you to be out of this madhouse in half an hour, in case you didn't take that hint. I just thought you might feel it necessary to linger on. It's not, you know. We can manage without you for a few hours. I mean soon we'll have to manage without you anyway, so it's time we start practising. To be sure I'll check – so you'd better head home. Have a nice weekend."

I unlocked the door of our flat shortly before 3 pm, which almost gave Ana a heart attack. It didn't take much, and I would have been arrested for breaking into my own flat. It almost felt as if I was a tolerated guest in my own rooms only at certain times.

I was also a bit surprised not to find Louisa. I had never come home from work and Louisa wasn't there, unless of course she was at one of her charity meetings. However, those had got fewer and fewer since we had decided to move back to Cornwall.

When I left work it hadn't occurred to me that Louisa was still working. Of course she was. Her school didn't end before 4 pm.

The only one who greeted me happily was James. He ran towards me and bubbled excitedly and even he remarked how strange it was that I was home before Mummy was. However, he seemed to be pleased about it and came to the conclusion that I could help him with his wooden farm.

I didn't fancy sitting on the floor arranging wooden animals, fearing it would lead to interests in my son that I would never be able to share as I still found the dirt connected with animals disgusting. I had a better idea.

I gave Ana the rest of the day off, which earned me an astonished look and a question regarding the payment for the two hours she wouldn't be working. I assured her that the two hours were on me.

Then I dressed James and took him by the hand. We took the detour through Kensington Gardens, where James tried to chase some butterflies. I also just came in time to stop him from befriending an odd looking, little dog. He had already asked its owner if it was okay to cuddle the mutt, before I could intervene to stop James from catching all sorts of germs.

Then we headed towards the school where Louisa worked. It was the first time since we left Portwenn that I had visited her workplace. Strange to think that I was at her school practically daily before and had often seen her with her colleagues and the children in her care.

Vice versa, Louisa had also been at my surgery on a regular basis in Portwenn, as a patient or just dropping by. Thankfully, Louisa had never had to come to Imperial since I had worked there, because that would normally mean a more serious accident or illness.

Thinking about it, although we worked just slightly further apart in this Metropolis, our lives were far more separated in this big city. Maybe that's why I had the feeling that we had been spending not enough time together, as our lives weren't intertwined anymore and there was a serious separation between family life and work.

I was standing in front of the school gates, James at my hand, but I wasn't allowed to go in. The playground on the schoolyard was just some feet away, but it was unapproachable for James. Unless you were a pupil of this school, unless it was during school breaks, this place was not to be entered. Somehow, I realised, the more relaxed approach of Portwenn made some sense, as London wasted huge amounts of land by reserving it for authorised people only. In a city where room was so sparse, it was absolute madness to restrict so much space to so few people at so few times.

Soon, James would be able to go almost everywhere he wanted to go. Portwenn had very few limits, and the existing ones mostly had a good safety reason as an excuse. Maybe, for James moving to Portwenn really would be a reasonable thing.

I remembered my childhood and a good deal of what I remembered were places I wasn't allowed to go to. Rooms that were for adults only, gardens only for the principals of the school, club rooms for members only, and surely enough I was never a member of any club.

My whole surroundings while growing up were a minefield of no-goes.

James wouldn't have that in Portwenn. He would like that. He was a curious boy. He loved running around. He loved exploring.

For his own safety and by the habit of the city, Louisa and I had to stop him every so often. Like now, when James was tugging at my hand, the playground in sight but out of reach, a busy road behind us. I couldn't let him go. He wasn't allowed to go forward and it wasn't safe to go backwards. So I picked him up. Still, he was restless, and soon he definitely would be too big for that.

I went up and down the pavement, carrying James, waiting for the school gates to open. It took another 15 minutes, before the first children left the building. James was a bit bored and not really brightened up by the prospect of surprising his Mummy. He hated this waiting game, and to be honest, so did I. Patience is not really one of my stronger virtues I have to admit, and maybe James got that from me. However, he has to learn to wait and he has to learn to put his own impulses aside for other's sake. Maybe a lecture I learned too late in life.

The more pupils ran out of school and out of the school gates, the more frequent James' question became why Mummy didn't show up yet, and if I was really sure that she was here?

I tried to explain to him that the children had the least responsibilities and therefore could go as soon as the lessons stopped, while his Mummy was rather high in the hierarchy and therefore had to make sure everyone was well on their way and therefore would very likely appear long after the last child had left.

James started to question why theses children where here, if there'd be children everyday and if they were always the same or how often did they have to come? He asked if he had to go there too and when and how often. I was almost glad that he suddenly had something to question, as it kept his mind off the waiting game. Besides, these were easy enough questions that even I could answer without putting my foot in it.

It took a couple of more minutes before I finally saw a group of adults leaving the building. I stretched my neck and scanned the group, but couldn't detect Louisa. Just moments later, however, about a dozen teachers left the building, chatting animatedly. I immediately spotted Louisa's dark hair. I pointed towards her to let James know that the waiting was over. Just that moment, Louisa looked into our direction. She burst into a smile and waved at us. I had to grab James tighter, as he also waved his arms. My arms were busy holding James.

Louisa told her colleagues something, laughing, and then came quickly towards us.

James immediately reached over when Louisa joined us and I handed him over to her.

"That's unexpected." Louisa said cheerfully, while glancing over James' shoulder to me. I could see in her eyes a certain uneasiness, despite her cheerful demeanour. "Is everything fine?"

Her eyes were searching me and I knew that in moments like this Louisa gave me something I never had before – the certainty that someone trusted me unconditionally. Louisa counted on me. She relied on me telling the truth. She trusted me completely.

It's in my nature to tell the truth, if for nothing more but the simple fact that I'm a terrible liar if I try to. My whole composure gives me away, so I always found it easier to tell the truth. However, that had never helped me not to be called a cheat and a liar by my parents, schoolmates, colleagues – you name it.

Louisa and I had many differences and she criticized a great many things, but one thing she always pointed out and gave me credit for – that I was honest.

I nodded. "Everything's fine."

"So how come I deserve the escort of the two handsomest men in London today?"

"I stopped work early today and thought we might pick you up." I tried to dissolve the worries of my partner.

"_You_ stopped working early?" I had to admit that Louisa's surprise was not only understandable but inevitable. It was not just uncommon for me to stop work early, it was unheard of.

"Uh…I've got loads of extra hours for compensation, so Robert suggested I should take the rest of the day off."

Louisa looked a bit more at ease, but was still a bit concerned. "Lucky me." She told James, who giggled in response and started questioning where we'd go next.

"Well, as this is a bit unexpected – what do you want to do?"

James started babbling about things that couldn't be done in London or which I wasn't necessarily prepared to do. However, there was something I had been looking forward to doing since we'd moved to London, but we hardly ever found the time.

So I brought my little family to the Science Museum just around the corner of our flat. James was a bit disinterested at first, but as soon as he discovered all the interactive activities they offer for children, his interest grew. I tried to explain the different subjects to him as well as I could.

I hope even Louisa enjoyed herself.

At last, when we finally had our tea back home in our flat, Louisa and James competed against each other which one had the most to tell.

_To be continued…_


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Next morning during breakfast, James started inquiring about some activities he had wished to do the afternoon before and which we had to decline on the grounds that you can't do that in London.

While munching his toast, James brought his favourite subject of the last few weeks up again.

"When we moved to the sea, can we go fishing then?" James washed his toast down with some milk. "And camping? Can we go camping?"

"Absolutely not!" I declared. I'd really do anything for my family, but there are limits.

"Why not?" James started whinging.

"It's disgusting." I declared with gusto. Looking over to Louisa, I could see that she was working hard to stifle a laugh.

"But it sounds like fun." James tried to convince me.

"As much fun as living in a pig sty. Absolutely not!"

Needless to say that James was not very cooperative for the rest of the morning.

After breakfast we dropped him at one of his friend's house while we made our way to the architect.

On our way there, Louisa looked over at me. She linked arms with me.

"It seems we've got to start looking for a tent. And some fishing rods." She mused.

"Don't be ridiculous." I growled.

Louisa looked up at me with puppy eyes. "You can't deny your son the simple pleasures of country life?"

"You bet I can."

"You've got a good excuse here in London, but in Portwenn?"

"If you're so keen, why aren't _you_ going camping with him?"

"I would. Really. I wouldn't mind one bit, but I think it would spoil the fun for James a bit."

"Really? Why's that?" That was the most stupid excuse I've ever heard. Fact was, Louisa didn't want to do it either.

"Oh, come on, Martin! Part of the fun is that it's a man's thing. Hunters and gatherers. Letting the cave man in you out. That sort of thing."

"There's no cave man inside of me." I added.

"No, not inside of you. That's for sure. But generally. So that's why we women are banned from this kind of fun with our sons."

I stopped abruptly, turning to force her to look straight at me.

"You don't honestly expect me to…_do that?!_"

Louisa looked at me innocently, but then the giggling fit got the better of her, which she had fortunately managed to suppress at the breakfast table. She started stroking my arm, which I found odd in the middle of a London street, so I jerked the arm back a bit. Besides, I definitely wasn't in the mood.

Louisa's eyes twinkled at me. Then she burst into laughter again. Finally she recovered from her immature giggling.

"Relax, I'm just teasing. Honest." Louisa smiled at me.

"Very funny." I snarled, not in the least pacified by her declaration.

"Sorry, Martin. I just envisioned you, sitting by the campfire in one of your meticulous suits and fine leather shoes, covered in mud, BBQing a fish on a stick, that you had disinfected before as thoroughly as possible." Louisa giggled again.

"I still can't see anything funny." I couldn't see anything remotely amusing, really. "Are you accusing me now in not being a slob around the house?"

"No, not accusing Martin." Louisa interlinked arms with me again and resumed our way. "I wouldn't want you any other way. Just stating that the way you are isn't necessarily compatible with country life."

"I am very well aware of that. Where does James' sudden interest in outdoors come from anyway?"

"Oh, when Al took him around the village, he told James how he went fishing and camping around there when he was little. Obviously, it made quite an impression on James. Well, maybe we'll find a way that leaves you out of it."

"We definitely won't find away that _includes_ me." I stated to make my point crystal clear.

"No, definitely not. And that's fine, really it is. James has to learn to consider the needs of others, too, and that he can't have everything he wants. And we can try to find a way that he can enjoy the outdoor living with likeminded people. Otherwise it wouldn't be good for anyone."

By now, we had reached the architect's office.

_To be continued…_


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter 77

That evening, the mood in our Kensington flat was a bit dampened.

I doubt that James was still grumpy because of the discussion this morning about outdoor activities, or rather the lack of them. I suspect that his disappointment over this matter had manifested itself into ill mood, and now James was just being grumpy because he was grumpy.

Nevertheless, I couldn't deny that I was glad when we had finally succeeded in putting our son to bed and be allowed to close the door behind us.

Louisa wasn't really in a bad mood, just a bit quieter than usual, maybe brooding. However, when I had asked her why she was so tense, she assured me it was nothing.

It was a bit weird, as I seemed the only one being quite content about the day's work.

The meeting with the architect had really brought us a huge step closer to finally starting the practical work. It had been a very constructive meeting. I had to admit that the recommendation of Louisa's colleague had been really a good one. He seemed competent enough and didn't waste any time with unnecessary chit chat .

He was someone who came straight to the point. More importantly, he immediately addressed the practical side of things. The experience in converting Cornish farms and cottages really showed. He was very well aware of the special requirements for that part of the world. Good insulation against the winter gales. No loose or floppy parts, which could be damaged by storm. Building materials that are inert enough to withstand the high salt concentration of the soil and air.

Louisa had seemed a bit bored with all these practicalities, while I found it very convincing and well thought through.

However, Louisa was more interested in his approach not to alter the character of the cottages too much from the outside. He didn't believe in overly modernizing old properties. What was the point in buying something old when you wanted to make it look new?

As logical as it seemed to be, his argument had the major flaw that we hadn't bought the property in total, only one half, and the deciding factor for this purchase has been that it was adjacent to our existing cottage.

Personally, I wouldn't have minded a bit more temporary air, but I could see his point that it wouldn't look too good in context with the rest of the village. Louisa, however, agreed wholeheartedly, praising the _'charm'_ of these character properties.

'_Charm', 'character'_ and _'period features'_ have always had been synonyms for low beams and ducking in my experience.

We could agree, however, that the inside would be a bit more updated, a bit more open plan, and definitely without low beams or small corners. The stairs had to be re-constructed completely, or I would have ruined my back in no time, or would be sporting a permanent bruise on my forehead. Besides, with two halves of the house each having its own staircase it was a pure waste of space, so it was more practical to have one staircase serving both parts.

Up to that stage, the meeting went really well and Louisa also seemed to be in a good mood.

Thinking about it, I realised that she became a lot quieter when we discussed the upstairs space.

Suddenly, I had the sinking feeling that Louisa had jumped to conclusions when I presented my plan for _two_ spacious bedrooms upstairs.

Suddenly her sulking around the kitchen when we were back home and a curious over-attentiveness when we brought James to bed made some sense.

Of course I had reacted as I always react when people don't act in a way that I comprehend - I had withdrawn into my study, hoping the ill wind would be blown away in the morning.

Maybe that had been wrong. I didn't really have anything to do that couldn't wait. What's more, I now had a clue where the problem might lay. I really should be looking for Louisa, trying to find out if had come to the right conclusion.

I got up, but instead of going to the door, I went to the window. Double glass. Sound proof. There was this eerily silent dance of big city traffic going on beneath the window.

Maybe that's what I liked about London. As the sheer mass of people thrown together would suffocate you, everyone was busy finding and securing their own private space. Everything was noisy, so everyone and every building were eager to keep the outside noise out and create their own acoustic world. When you rode the tube, everyone went to the full lengths to keep other people out. London was a town of separation. No one bonded voluntarily. You were thrown together in this huge melting pot and tried to maintain a minimum of independence.

In a couple of months, everything would be different. My space would be invaded, all my senses would be filled with stimuli I had no control over.

Wherever you went and through all the windows, the sound of the wind, the sea and sea-gulls were flushing in. Light streamed through the windows. People seemed to find it natural to come and go as they pleased. Villagers visited each other without setting an appointment. There were only a few people with headsets to create their own acoustic environment where they went, while you hardly saw anyone without one in this metropolis.

This environment, we lived in now, was man made. Nature had no say in it any longer. Life was planned, organised, predictable.

In Cornwall it was a whole different matter. The influence of mankind was reduced to a modicum. Houses were built following the space nature offered, leading to a wild unorganised array of different sized houses, nestled along the hills and the estuaries of the small rivers, heading towards the sea. Working hours were partly dictated by the tides, the seasons, the weather. Depending on the trade you were in, you had to decide from day to day what to do. How the hell could you optimise workflows that way?!

Sometimes when the winter gales became too strong, or there was a risk of flooding, nature claimed part of the village as well as a good deal of the streets and roads, and brought life to a halt. There was nothing else to do but to barricade yourself inside your house, having a sufficient stock of fuel, candles, water and food, as you couldn't be sure that the electricity or water supply could be maintained. At least with both our cottages a bit uphill, we didn't have to worry too much about flooding. The lower parts of the village, however, had their fair share of that.

Actually, I never understood the appeal of country life, but realised that most people found that preferable. Many of my colleagues had expressed that they envied me in moving to that beautiful area.

I thought back to a young couple, tourists, that visited my GP practise on one of the last days I practised in Portwenn. Girl with a red, blotchy face, because her husband couldn't keep his hands neither from her nor the freebies in their B&B, soap containing nut-products. They beamed at me that I was _so_ lucky to be there, while my mind was looking forward to leaving the backwaters behind. I didn't understand them.

Now, I had to learn to make my peace with the area I loathed so much. Make my peace with the villagers, too, although I hoped I could minimise any contact with them. I wasn't responsible for their welfare anymore, I was in Truro or Plymouth most of the week, and I could also do my shopping there. The need for interaction with the locals would be less frequent as it had been before.

I was looking forward, however, to the sea view. I had always found it relaxing – standing in front of the cottage, having a cup of coffee when most of the villagers were still at home, before the madness of the day started. Now I didn't even have to leave the house to have that. The little patio or in bad weather simply the view out of the windows would be sufficient.

As my thoughts had wandered back to the outlay of our future home I decided to try to find Louisa. After all, there were still some matters to discuss.

_To be continued…_


	78. Chapter 78

Chapter 78

The lights were on in the kitchen. I expected Louisa to be there. She was very much a kitchen person. At least one thing that we have in common. We mostly used the lounge for the few occasions when we watched TV, or lately when we made ourselves a bit more comfortable on the couch. But since the start of our relationship, many important scenes have taken place in a kitchen.

Louisa was flipping through a furniture catalogue, without much conviction it seemed.

"Tea?" I offered, while I put the kettle on.

Louisa shook her head and grunted something that could be taken as a refusal.

"Coffee, perhaps?" I put some loose tea leaves in a tea filter and placed it into a mug.

"No, thanks."

At least Louisa had started talking again.

"Some wine, maybe?"

Now I had Louisa's attention. She slowly turned around and looked up at me. "Wine?"

"I think there's still some white open."

"I know there is, but _you_ offering wine?"

In all truth, I was violating my convictions a bit, but in fairness, I never commented on Louisa's occasional glass of wine either. I just paid attention that there were no negative developments.

"You seem stressed and usually it helps. At least that's what you say."

"I told, you, I'm fine." Louisa declared with a clear edge in her voice.

"Right." I took a second mug and prepared another tea filter, then I brewed us a tea each. I set the timer.

"Do you want a biscuit with your tea?" I tried to ask as casually as I possibly could, but making that offer made me sick in my stomach. I had never managed to talk Louisa out of her sweet tooth, so I had begrudgingly learned to tolerate it. Nevertheless, until this moment I had never supported her little vice.

"A chocolate digestive would be great." Louisa answered slowly. "They are in the cupboard over there, top shelf."

Louisa didn't take her eyes off me when I walked over and placed one biscuit on a saucer.

She kept watching me quietly and obviously with high tension, while I removed the filters and took her mug and the saucer over to her.

When I reached her side of the table, she suddenly shut the catalogue. I tried not to react to it.

Then I went back to the sink to get my own tea, before I sat down on the chair opposite Louisa.

"What's the matter?" I asked her, while she dunked the biscuit into her tea.

There is only one way to make the habit of eating biscuits worse, and that is by dunking it in hot fluids before. You've got a fair chance to create a mess that way, and you can't avoid crumbs floating in your brew. I tried to ignore it.

Louisa managed to get the soaked half of the biscuit into her mouth before it fell off.

"Nothing." She munched.

"You seem tense. You're also quieter than usual."

"I thought you liked your peace and quiet." Louisa shot me a look and I had no clue why I deserved that.

"You can talk to me." I insisted.

Louisa finished her biscuit and gave me a sideways look for quite some time.

"No, I can't." She replied quietly.

"Why?"

"I promised."

I breathed in deeply, as my suspicion was confirmed.

Insecure about how to proceed and not getting much help from Louisa, I reached for the catalogue she had been scanning.

I opened it randomly. "Anything interesting?"

"Nope."

"But you'd been looking at something when I came in."

"Not seriously."

I followed the crease in the binding and, as I expected, it lead me straight to the page with nursery equipment.

I turned the catalogue so that Louisa faced it.

"That's what you've been looking at?"

Louisa bit her lip, then sipped her tea.

"I told you, I didn't look at anything seriously."

"Louisa..."

She interrupted me immediately. "No, I promised you, I won't bring that subject up again." Louisa was about to get up, but I quickly covered her hand with mine.

"That doesn't mean that I can't bring it up. I think you've got something wrong."

"_Two_ bedrooms, Martin? I think that's pretty obvious." She nodded at me, trying hard not to show her disappointment. "And I told you, you don't have to justify your decision."

"But I haven't made any decision yet." I assured her.

"No? So _if_ we were to have another child, where do you suppose we'll put it, hm?" Louisa's tone became more aggressive.

"Louisa, I can't decide before we get a check-up regarding our fertility and the condition of our gametes. It doesn't make sense to start that now, as we will leave London soon. I will check the competence of the OB department at Truro and Plymouth as soon as I start there, but I have to have confidence in the staff before I address them with anything that personal."

"Oh, Martin. And I was just thinking about tossing the pills and condoms."

"You said…"

"Yes, I said whatever you feel confident with. I know."

"But you don't want that?" I inquired, seeing Louisa's worried expression.

"Sure, whatever it takes. However, it sounds complicated and long, and we're not getting any younger."

"I promise you, I will look into it as soon as I start at the new hospitals. The examination itself won't take long."

"And what then?" Louisa asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What excuse will you find after the examination?"

"I'm not finding any excuses." My voice took on a high pitched tone. "The examination will show if there are any abnormal damage to the genomes of our gametes. It will also show if fertility problems are likely to happen, or if there is a heightened danger during pregnancy, either for the foetus or you. Depending on the test results, we might get some support on how to increase our fertility and safety for having another child. If my sperm or your ova, however, show any genetical damage above average, I'm not prepared to take the risk, because there is nothing you can do. But in any other case, I am willing to go the full length to make your wish possible, I assure you."

"Sounds very clinical. I just hope you haven't planned anything clinical for the act itself."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Martin, you know exactly what I mean. Combining your sperm with my ova, that's what I mean. I would very much like that to happen naturally. Would spoil the fun, otherwise."

"Uhm, no nothing outside the ordinary is planned in that respect." I coughed nervously.

"That's a relief." Louisa tried a smile. "And where do you want to put the baby, just in case nothing goes wrong up to that stage."

"There are options."

"Not in the plans I've seen. You made the decision with sealing the house plans today."

"I just didn't want to sacrifice on James' and our comfort for something theoretical." I explained.

"That's what I mean. You see another child as just a theoretical concept, not as anything real."

"Because it isn't real. Not at the moment."

"No, but the house will still stand as it is planned now even if you came to the conclusion that medically another child would be possible."

"Yes, but it will be easy to change."

"No, Martin. It wouldn't."

"I do have a plan that would involve some re-work, but not too much. I assure you."

"Sure." Louisa said, but by her tone it was obvious she didn't believe me.

"You'll see, if we come to that point."

"Sure."

"You don't believe me?" I confronted her directly.

"It sounds a bit evasive to me. If you had a plan, you could just explain it to me."

I paused for a moment, and then decided that Louisa was right. So I got the plans I had made from my study and explained to her in full how we could gain a third bedroom if need be.

_To be continued…_


	79. Chapter 79

Chapter 79

When I had finished my explanation, Louisa got up and went around the table to give me a peck on the cheek. Then she fingered for my hand and tugged at it, nodding into the direction of the lounge.

"What's that for?" I asked a bit puzzled.

"For giving my wishes so much thought."

"Of course I have."

"And for letting me in. You were absolutely right. It had been wrong not to talk about it. Thanks for talking to me. Imagine." Louisa smiled.

"Imagine what?"

"Imagine you showing me the importance of talking."

"I thought it would be useful."

"It was, very useful." Louisa tugged again at my hand and I got up, not sure why. "I'm afraid we haven't talked enough for today, though."

I groaned. Even when the outcome of the discussion had been positive, I still found it strenuous.

"I'll try to make it short, I promise. And I'd really like to be more comfortable doing so. The couch, maybe?"

I let myself lead to our sofa and sat down, while Louisa tucked her feet up and rested against my shoulder.

"While we're at it, I thought we could discuss our wedding." Louisa started.

"Ah."

"You don't want to?"

"There's not much I can help you with, can I?"

"There isn't much you need to help me with. Just clarifying a few things and how you'd prefer them."

"Huh?"

"I found a quaint little church, right here in the city centre and I've already spoken to the vicar. He's happy to marry us. It's just, he'd like to talk to _both_ of us first. You think you can make it?"

"Depends on the date."

"Oh, he's quite flexible. It's OK if it is after seven."

"James?"

"I talked to Ana. She's willing to look after him one evening."

"You told Ana about our wedding?"

"Not yet. I just told her we might have to be away one evening and if she could look after James. She said that's OK."

"Ah."

"But we've got to tell her at some point. She'll find out anyway."

I grunted. I hated the idea of other people snooping in our private affairs.

"So any preferable evenings?"

"I'm on call on Tuesday."

"Otherwise it's fine?"

I nodded.

"Good, I'll get an appointment then. I'd also like to set a date. It'll take a couple of weeks. I thought a Saturday would be nice. Any preferences?"

"No."

"OK, I've got carte blanche then. Who do you want to invite?"

My eyes widened. "No one!" I burst out.

"Come on, Martin, you've got to have someone. You need a best man, for example."

"No, I don't."

"I guess you do. And you have family."

"I certainly hope you'll be there." I tried to play it down. "And I don't mind James attending."

"But we're not your only family. Your parents…"

"Leave my parents out of it!" I yelled at Louisa, completely shocked, withdrawing my arm, which I had around Louisa's shoulder. Louisa jumped back a bit, confused by my vehement reaction. It took a moment for her to collect herself, but then she bent forward and stroked my shoulder.

"Relax. I was just asking. Of course if you don't want to, that's absolutely fine. But what about Ruth?"

After a while I let Louisa talk me into calling Ruth and asking her if she'd like to attend, but that was where I drew the line. I certainly didn't need any more people around.

"Who do you want to invite?" It suddenly dawned on me that Louisa might have another take on the whole marrying affair.

"Depends on how low key you want to keep it."

"The lowest key possible." I didn't have to think twice about it.

"We do have to take Ana." Louisa declared. "We have to keep James out of our hair. However, I don't necessarily need to invite my parents either." Louisa sighed. "Thinking about it, they never gave a damn about me, so why should they bother now. I suppose Dad's still at her Majesties pleasure anyhow, and I doubt Mum could be bothered to leave the Spanish sun for a trifle like the marriage of her only daughter."

I put my arm around her once again and gave her shoulder a squeeze. Our families were really crap, both of them. While I knew about both of Louisa's useless parents, she had never had the misfortune to have encountered mine. I hoped I could leave it that way. If I was lucky, they were already dead and just had forgotten to make arrangements to inform me. Just as well.

I put my head on Louisa's. "It's alright." I whispered into her hair. "We are family enough."

Louisa stroked my chest. "Hm. Has to be, anyway." She dabbed her eyes. "Sorry. Still gets to me."

"It's alright, but we really don't need them."

"No, you're right, we don't." Louisa agreed more cheerful. "So, just the five of us, then? Ruth, Ana, James, you and me?"

"It would be useful if you turned up." I tried to lighten Louisa's mood.

"Not like the last time, you mean?" Obviously it didn't work, as it brought up unpleasant memories again. Gosh, our whole relationship surely was a minefield.

"Certainly not like the last time. Not at all."

"No, I know." Louisa breathed in deeply and forced a smile onto her face. "So, there's just one question left – the dress code."

"What do you mean?"

"If it is so low key, you'd still like me to have a proper white gown, or simply something elegant I have."

I saw Louisa in bright white in front of my internal eye. My mouth went dry and I gulped. However, Louisa was absolutely right, if we were just five people in a church, the expenses for a wedding dress, only to be worn on this one occasion, would be an unnecessary expense.

I fought a short internal battle between my head and my heart, but as usual my head had the last say.

"Uhm, you could wear a wedding dress just this once."

"That's the general idea." Louisa interrupted me.

"Uh, yes, so it would be more practical to use something you already have. I mean, buying a dress just for a few hours, would be…would be…not logical."

Louisa looked at me intensely while I gave my explanation.

"So that's what you want? A simple dress?" Louisa dug deeper.

I paused again and had to shake my head slightly to clear it from the still lingering vision of Louisa in a bright white dress.

"That would be the most logical proceeding." I confirmed.

"_Logical_. I see." Louisa concluded. "Right, I think everything's settled then. I'll go ahead."

_To be continued…_


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter 80

I was standing in this little church. I had been quite astonished that something like this existed in this big town. It seemed to be fallen out of time. For reasons unknown the church had managed to maintain a minimum of green space around it. In a city constantly growing since Roman times, it had managed to stay small, overshadowed by glass-and-chrome-skyscrapers right, left and centre.

It seemed like an out-of-place reminder of a bygone town, London in the 16 hundreds having gotten lost in the 21st century.

The vicar mind you, made the same impression on me. I haven't been so enthusiastic about him as Louisa has been. The moment he had asked us why we wanted to get married, I had told him that it was none of his business. I hate people getting involved in my affairs. Louisa had given me a stern look, whispering towards me that it was his job. Somehow we managed to get through the meeting without me infuriating neither the vicar nor Louisa so much that they would refuse to go along with the wedding.

However, I found the parting words of the vicar not very assuring. "If you're really sure, then we'll see each other on the morning of Saturday the week after next."

Despite this bad omen, I was now standing in this church. The first pew was filled with Ana, James and Ruth. The vicar was standing in front of me.

Just Louisa was nowhere to be seen.

She had insisted on getting dressed at Ana's place. She had told me it was bad luck if the groom saw the bride before the ceremony. Utter rubbish.

I was looking around. I hated to admit to it, but I was utterly nervous. I didn't know why, because there wasn't much that would be changing, but I could hardly keep still. The waiting game wasn't helping either.

The vicar obviously sensed my uneasiness and bent over to assure me that she wasn't late yet, that we were still on time. I snapped at him that I was very well aware of that, although I wasn't. He just smiled at me benevolently.

Just that moment I heard the door open with a loud creaking sound. I spun around and found myself nailed to the spot. My mouth went dry. I bet I was standing mouth agape. I was staring at the sight in front of me. I couldn't take my eyes off Louisa, coming slowly towards me. Somehow the world ceased to exist. It seemed there were just Louisa and me and the space between us in the whole universe. I wasn't aware of any sounds except for the pounding in my ear and the rustling of Louisa's dress.

I felt my head tilting slightly, and I just saw Louisa's smile.

When Louisa passed me, I turned towards the altar involuntarily, simply following her movement.

"Hello Martin." She mouthed.

"Uh…uhm…" I couldn't form any coherent sounds, as my tongue seemed to be a huge lump in a numb area.

"The vicar..." Louisa nodded in front of us.

"Ah…uhu…" I still could just stare at her. Her beautiful dark hair tumbling underneath the while veil, framing her lovely face. I felt like a fraud pausing as a groom, as no woman as beautiful as this could possibly be willing to become my wife. And yet, she was standing there, right by my side. I felt my shoulders square, bringing my 6'3'' to full height.

"Can we start?" I vaguely noticed an unfamiliar male voice.

"Give him a moment." I heard Louisa's lovely tilt. "Martin?"

"The dress?" I managed with all my willpower to form full words again.

"Ah, yes. I opted for the full kit. Even when you said I didn't have to. I could see the disappointment in your face. I thought, sod it, we're just getting married once, so let's do it right."

"Right."

"You like it?" Louisa asked, and her eyes were twinkling like a thousand stars.

"Like it?" I dumbly asked back. That wasn't really the word for it. Louisa wearing this dress could easily fall under the Narcotics Act. Seeing her like this was the closest I've ever come to a transcendental experience. She had certainly transcended the limits of beauty and had taken it to a new level.

"I hate to interrupt," this enervating strange voice disturbed my thoughts again, "but I've got a christening later on."

"Alright, let's go." Louisa said, nudging me with her elbow. "Ready?" She asked into my direction.

The whole ceremony passed me by while I was in a state of trance. I hardly noticed what the vicar said. I sat down when Louisa signalled me to do so and got up when she did. I only registered her. I didn't have any fragment of my brain left for anything else. I must have been the worst groom ever being wed.

I snapped back into reality when the vicar declared: "I hereby pronounce you man and wife."

Louisa was holding my left hand where she had just slipped my wedding ring on, a small delicate golden band, joining us forever.

I swallowed hard to get that lump out of my throat and felt the corners of my eyes getting wet. Louisa, however, beamed up at me, those thousand stars twinkling, making the darkness of my lonely soul bright.

I cleared my throat.

"You may kiss the bride." I heard the insistent voice of the vicar.

Although there were just three people in the pew, all of which I was very familiar with, I felt a bit embarrassed at showing my affection in public. Usually, just holding hands with anyone else present makes me nervous.

However, when I saw Louisa pulling back her veil and reaching up to me, I let myself glide back into the mind tunnel that had engulfed me since Louisa had entered the church. Her lips meeting mine were the sweetest sensation. She held my hand again, touching my wedding ring, making its presence very real. I felt myself lean into her, deepening the kiss, forgetting the world around me. There were some childish giggles outside this bubble that enclosed us, and a gasp.

Finally I noticed Louisa pulling back, but she held my gaze for a moment longer. "Leave some for later." She whispered barely audible. I felt myself blush and her hand brushed against my chest shortly.

There were some more hymns being sung and some more texts being read, but I had no interest in them. I just held Louisa's hand, craving to feel the long awaited ring on her finger.

At last we were released. I led Louisa down the aisle, towards the church door she had entered as Miss Glasson and that she would now leave as Mrs. Ellingham.

I was looking forward to a quiet dinner at a good restaurant and afterwards a nice evening at home.

As soon as I opened the door, there was a loud roar and rice and confetti rained on us from all different directions.

_To be continued…_

O

_This chapter was especially written for Chapin. I never planned to include the wedding, as I had written a wedding in "A Long Way" and after seeing S6E1 I was certain that I couldn't do that justice. However, Chapin expressed his wish for a description of a wedding in his review to chapter 62, and here it is._


	81. Chapter 81

Chapter 81

In reflex I lifted my hand to protect my eyes from the flying objects. I waved my hands frantically in the air as all this rubbish buzzed around my head like a swarm of hornets. About twenty throats started to cajole and shout their cheers. I was completely confused.

"What the heck?!" I shouted angrily, just when I noticed that Louisa was turning to one of the people squalling and laughing the most.

"Tommy, what are you doing here? That's a surprise!"

"We can't let our favourite member lose her freedom without any support, now can we?" This boisterous brat babbled on.

I ducked my head and took Louisa aside to whisper in her ear. "I thought you wanted to keep it quiet? Who are these people anyway? And why did you invite them?"

"They are from our street-kids group." Louisa craned her neck. "Even some of the kids are here." She beamed, when she spotted some rundown teenagers.

I grimaced. Exactly what I needed. Some tramps invading my wedding.

"And I didn't invite them. Really I didn't." Louisa whispered back.

"Well, you lovebirds." This annoying numbnut asked for attention.

I turned around quickly towards him "Who invited you anyway?" I demanded to know.

"We weren't really invited, in the usual sense." He grinned.

"In which sense then?" I snarled.

"Well, strictly speaking we weren't invited at all. We just thought it would be nice…" He started to declare.

"What is it with you people? Coming to every festivity like lemmings. Shoo off then!" That really was a bit strong, simply turning up uninvited, ruining our day.

"Whew, that's a bit harsh." The man moaned. "We just wanted to surprise you."

Louisa squeezed my arm, a silent sign of hers that she would be taking over and I should keep my mouth shut.

"I appreciate the thought." Louisa kept on, still smiling. "However, Martin." She nodded in my direction.

"Dr. Ellingham." I corrected. I didn't plan on fraternizing with this lot, that's for sure.

Louisa flinched a bit. "My husband isn't too keen on surprises. So you should have warned me."

"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise, now would it?" This slimy sucker grinned.

"Yeah, that's what I mean." Louisa nodded conspiratorially in his direction. "Just for the future."

'_The future?'_ I thought horrified. I didn't plan to see any of them again.

"Okey-doke!" He agreed.

"How did you even know about this?" Louisa waved vaguely towards the church entrance. "I didn't tell a soul."

This Tommy-twerp scratched his head, beaming.

"That was pure chance. My cousin is doing the flower arrangements for this church. We were planning a cousin gathering, as all cousins of our family try to meet once a trimester."

I cringed as high doses of family are always a terrifying thought for me. Thankfully no one seemed to have noticed.

"When I called her to suggest this date, she told me about the wedding they had on this day, and mentioned the names of the couple." He grinned as if he expected a trophy for good detective work.

"What about patient's confidentiality or whatever it is called in churches?" I yelled.

"Well, none of us is sick, so I don't see any patients." This man quipped, visibly amused. "And the seal of the confessional, if that's what you're referring to, is only valid if someone confesses anything he regrets. You're not regretting this already, are you?" He looked at me demonstratively.

This man turned around and the whole group started laughing.

"I BEG YOUR PARDON!" I started to rant, but then I felt my wife's hand against my chest. To be exact, I rather sensed it, as it was such a light flutter that I could barely feel it.

Nevertheless, its impact had been strong enough to make me grow silent.

When I looked down, I saw Louisa's pleading eyes boring themselves into mine. The second I stopped, she smiled. Then she turned to the man that had made these flimsy comments.

"Actually, we don't like it when anybody speaks so lightly about our wedding. It is a very important moment for us, and we don't want to be laughed at."

Louisa had spoken quietly but her simple statement had a huge effect on her friends. I had to admit that all my scolding never has been remotely as efficient as her declaration has been.

"Uhm...sorry...we didn't mean to. Hurting you was the last thing we wanted."

This man looked around and everyone around him was eagerly nodding.

"Well, still friends?" He asked into my direction, offering me his hand to shake.

"Didn't know we were." I grumbled.

He looked at his empty hand, ignored by me. I was really fed up with his jovial ways.

"Right, then suppose we aren't." He stated with a clear edge in his voice. "Anyway, we have prepared some food, for the reception, so to speak." He pointed towards some fold up tables, loosely covered with some sorry excuses for a table cloth, decked with all sort of things.

"We thought we'd keep it Cornish, you know? Pasties, scones the right Cornish way – cream's up – that sort of thing."

"You didn't let them loose on the food?" I waved in the direction of some run-down teenagers hovering around the buffet.

"It's our policy to involve those kids as much as we can. That gives them some meaning in life, some direction."

"And all sorts of infectious diseases to anyone eating any of this rubbish." I pointed out.

Just that moment we heard James whining, from the other corner of the little courtyard that this church had preserved amidst the bustle of the metropolis.

Louisa nodded towards the group of invited guests. "Can you have a look at James?"

"Ana's there. She'll sort it." I didn't know what the fuss was about.

"Please?" Louisa asked me pointedly.

Reluctantly I went over to Ruth, Ana and James, who was tugging at Ana's hand.

"What seems to be the problem?" I asked, still looking over my shoulder towards my newly-wed wife engrossed in an animated discussion with this so-called friend of hers. Just this Tommy was left, while the others stormed the buffet as if they hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Ah, Jaimecito is just getting bored, aren't you?" Ana stroked James' hair with her free hand.

"I'm hungry. I want some of those." He was pointing towards scones thickly covered with jam, presumably strawberry, and a huge dab of clotted cream on top. I quickly estimated the calories of this dish and came to the conclusion that it was probably worth a weeks rationing.

"You won't young man, neither of us would. We've booked a table in a restaurant. As soon as this farce is over, you'll get your meal there."

"But I want to have that first." James declared.

"How often do I have to tell you – no eating between meals. That's the beginning of the end."

"But…" James started again, but I silenced him in telling him sternly. "End of discussion." I was a bit impatient, as I wanted to get back to Louisa, finding out what she was discussing for so long with this twit.

Before I could get away, my aunt took me aside.

"Is this Louisa's idea of a quiet wedding?" She smirked, taking a sip from her glass of water.

"She didn't know, apparently."

"Weren't they invited?"

"No."

"So why are they here?"

"They wanted to _surprise_ us." I sneered.

"Nice." My aunt stated, stone-faced. "I suppose that's what you've got to get used to, being married to Louisa."

"Of course not!"

"Well, she strikes me as the sociable type. She'll always have all sorts of people around."

"No she wouldn't, not in our house anyway."

"Really?"

"Yes. She offered. She'll meet friends, of course, but she'll be going out."

"Interesting." My aunt smirked, while I still had to hold James firmly to prevent him from running to the next cake stand. I signalled Ana to take over as I wanted to go back to Louisa, as I could see that the discussion was growing more and more animated.

"Stop him from eating anything here." I ordered when she had finally managed to reach me.

"If I'm going to get married, I want a reception like this." She cooed. "It's fun. So much better than the stuffy affairs you English usually have. This is great."

I groaned as it was beyond me how anyone could get even the slightest delight out of this chaos. "James is not to have any food from these stalls. Understood?" I specified my instructions as the dreamy eyes of our au-pair made it very clear that she was mentally absent.

"Such a shame, it looks so lovely. And the pasties are terrific."

I groaned and turned away to rush to Louisa's side as she was still talking with that twit and I saw both of them gesticulating.

"What is the problem?" I demanded to know the moment I joined Louisa. She looked at me warily.

_To be continued…_


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter 82

"_You_ are the problem." This uninvited guest told me provocatively.

"What?" I shouted.

Louisa also seemed to be enraged by her guest's behaviour. "Tommy, you're impossible! I never thought you'd be so…"

"…rude?" I suggested.

"Yeah, that too, but I wanted to say '_prejudiced'_."

"I'm not, but you've got to admit he's everything we fight against." This man kept on insulting us.

"I didn't realise we were fighting against anything." Louisa retorted agitatedly.

"Well, you obviously aren't. I have to admit you've done nicely for yourself there."

"I BEG YOUR PARDON!" Louisa and I exclaimed in unison.

"Come on, he's oozing wealth. I bet he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Mummy's pampered little boy." He sneered. "I hate that type."

Before I could say anything, my newly-wed wife took a step towards her so-called friend and glowered at him. When she spoke, her voice was low and menacing. "Listen carefully, _mate_. You've known Martin…"

"Dr. Ellingham." I corrected. Louisa turned quickly towards me, then focused her attention on this twerp again. "You've know my husband for how long? A minute, maybe two? And you already know all about him, do you?" Louisa was dripping with sarcasm. "You're just _so smart_. You know nothing! It took me _years_ to begin to understand him, and he's ten times the man you think you are. So what if he was born wealthy? Who was it telling everyone that no one should have a disadvantage in life just because of the circumstances he was born into?"

"I was talking about those kids," He shouted waving in the direction of a group of shabby looking creatures, "those kids who will never get a chance because of people like him! People like him are the true coffin nails for any social society." Now he pointed directly at me. Again, Louisa beat me to answer.

"So it's not your fault if you're born poor, but it's damnable to be born rich? Doesn't sound fair to me. You can't help either. Besides, you smart-arse, Martin has done more for society than you with all your preaching will _ever_ achieve, he just doesn't boast about it."

"Really?" This time I was in unison with this Tommy-boy, which was disturbing.

"Before I forced him to take a few days off for holidays, he was on duty 24/7, 365 days a year. Always on call. Never taking any time off – not even a long weekend. Whenever anyone called he was out helping them, and no one thanked him or acknowledged his dedication, as he was just doing his job. When we were together back in Portwenn, when he was doing his duty as a GP, we couldn't have _one_ uninterrupted talk, as his mobile kept ringing. He couldn't let it ring, not when someone was in need of his help."

"So don't you _dare_ to tar and feather him when you know _absolutely nothing_!" Louisa had accentuated every word in poking her index finger into Tommy's shoulder . "Tosser!"

She was about to turn away, when she swirled around again to face her victim once more. "And when it comes to being privileged, it's all about money for you, is it? There are all sorts of handicaps, and we _all_ have our share of the one or the other. So what if my husband," Louisa nodded towards me, "didn't let life get him down? Actually, I admire him for everything he's survived and still soldiered on. _He _didn't rely on others to get him out of a pickle. He made it, no matter how tough it was. Shall I despise him for keeping on functioning? He didn't lose his act like those kids did, but he isn't a worse person just because he didn't drown in self-pity."

"So you're indicating those kids are losers?" Tommy retorted rather angrily.

"Of course they are. I thought that's what we're doing all the time. Teaching them to get back onto their own two feet and learn to solve their problems."

"So you blame them…"

"I don't blame them for anything, and I'm happy to help, but the fact is that they are lost in this world and that they rely on you, but you can't rely on them. I've found a rock in my husband to turn to, to support me."

"Don't give me the damsel-in-distress act. You're bloody well capable of looking after yourself. You're strong enough to cope on your own. You don't need him."

"Has it occurred to you that I am sick of looking after all and sundry and having no one to look after me? I admit it, I love being cared for. Nothing's wrong with that. Besides, it's none of your bloody business."

Then she turned around towards me, and her eyes were dark and sparkling. "Martin, let's go."

Before I knew it Louisa had grabbed my arm and hurried with me in tow in the direction of James.

I looked with puzzlement back to the uninvited guest who looked a bit forlorn, while Louisa navigated us towards our son.

"It's time to get out of here." She told me, and I agreed wholeheartedly.

"You're not already leaving, are you?" A woman addressed my wife.

Louisa stopped in her tracks. "Yeah, we are. Table's booked and we don't want to be too late." She explained not entirely sticking to the truth.

"Yeah, but we made such an effort to do all this for you." This woman kept on.

"You heard my wife." I tried to make short work of this interruption.

"My, my – why so jumpy? We just wanted to celebrate with you." It seemed all of Louisa's so called friends were bound to keep us from celebrating properly.

"No one is stopping you from indulging in this fat- and sugar-laden food." I clarified. After all, I wasn't her GP.

"I must say…" This woman protested, but Louisa held a hand up to stop her.

"Please, don't. I've had a rather unpleasant discussion with Tommy already. That's quite enough for today."

"Alright, but you can't just sneak away without saying hello. We made sure everyone came to support you giving up your freedom."

"Please, stop this nonsense about the freedom." Louisa sounded quite annoyed.

"But you must come to say hello!"

Louisa turned towards me, biting her lip. "Would you mind? I just need fifteen minutes or so."

"Gawd." I growled. "I thought that twit put you off for good."

"Shirlene's not to blame for Tommy acting over the top, nor are the others. It would be rude not to say hello."

"I thought…" I started, but realised by Louisa's pleading eyes that I hadn't been quick enough. This battle was lost. "Alright. I wait with James."

"Oh no," this other woman interrupted, "Louisa told us so much about you, we all want to meet the man who stole her heart away. She was never shy of admirers, but she ignored them all. So we're curious."

"I bet you are," I retorted, "but I won't tolerate being assessed like a second-hand car." I nodded towards Louisa and pointed towards our little group that was actually invited. "I'll wait." I declared, stomping off immediately so that no one could stop me.

I watched Louisa mingling with one group or the other, talking, laughing, arguing. I grew more and more impatient and looked at my watch constantly. It felt like ages, but I had to admit that Louisa was still true to her word. She hadn't been doing her round for more than ten minutes yet.

After 17 minutes exactly Louisa joined us. "Ready?" I asked.

"Yep. They'll celebrate here without us, let's go." She nodded towards Ruth, who had offered to take us to the restaurant in her Mercedes. At least with her we could be sure that no nonsense was attached to the vehicle.

The first time we had time for us alone was in the evening in our flat. Although the restaurant had been acceptable, I dreaded every minute there. I had wished for the moment to have some privacy. To be alone with my wife for the first time. Actually, it seemed to me Ana had been the one enjoying our reception most, including some wine.

However, that wasn't the only reason Louisa and I refused her offer to take care of James for the night. Ana had giggled while making this proposal, while Ruth smirked in our direction. I hate these innuendos. Can't they get a life and leave ours alone?

In the end, Louisa and I felt both more comfortable to have James with us, and tucking him into bed and reading to him had been more joyful than ever, as Louisa had joined me.

Now we were alone in our room. I sighed when I closed the door.

Louisa looked at me.

"What?" I asked irritated seeing Louisa's doubtful face.

"I suppose you weren't quite what they expected." Louisa stated serenely.

"Who?"

"My friends from the street-kids group."

"That bad?"

"No, nothing's wrong with that, exactly." Louisa smiled at me.

"Good."

"They just probably think I am a bit crazy, that's all." She stepped closer to me.

"I very much doubt that."

"Well, you really didn't make the best of all possible impressions, now did you?" Louisa ran her hands over my lapels, as we were still in our finery.

"I doubt that they are capable of thinking."

"Oh, Martin. I just told them how great you are. And they just wanted to be friendly. Congratulating us on our big step." Louisa made vague gestures in the air.

"It is none of their business."

"They think it is, because they care about us."

"I don't know them."

"So maybe they care about me, and because they do know that I care about you, so that makes them care about you, too."

"Rubbish." There was no logic in this explanation that I could see.

Louisa sighed. "At least we won't have that problem when we're back in Portwenn."

"I say we'll have plenty more of it, as everyone sticks their noses where they don't belong." I growled.

"Maybe, but I don't have to defend you, explain myself, as they know you, and they know me."

"Hardly."

"Well," Louisa was purring by now, and I was glad that although she obviously found fault in my behaviour for some reason, she obviously didn't hold it against me, "they probably also think I'm mad."

I tried to protest, but Louisa put her hand at the back of my head and pulled me closer. "At least they also know that if I'm mad, I'm just mad about you." She whispered before her kiss engulfed me and made us forget anyone outside this room.

_To be continued…_


	83. Chapter 83

Chapter 83

The next couple of weeks went by and we settled into a comfortable routine. As much as I liked this way of life, I was painstakingly aware of how short-lived it was.

Louisa stayed most evenings at home now, with just two meetings max during the week. As my contract with Imperial was ending soon, I had to try to get rid of some of the hours that I had accumulated over the years working overtime. So while work became more stressful during the hours I spent there, work would end mostly in the afternoons giving me more time with James and Louisa.

Ana welcomed her shorter workday too, as she started preparing her move to Cornwall. Besides, she took one week off to invite some of her Spanish friends from home to stay over to use one of the last chances to show them the metropolis for free.

I hardly ever had so much time with my family in the city I felt most comfortable with, but Louisa never failed to remind me that soon we would leave this Moloch behind for the green and pleasant lands.

Our weekend trips to Cornwall became fewer, as there wasn't much we could do at the moment. Others were doing the work right now.

Al was working on the holiday lets that he had promised us would be ready as the temporary accommodation that we would need when we moved to Cornwall as the rework on our property would not be finished in time. Al kept us updated about the progress and it looked promising that we had a fair chance of being able to move into one of the lets in time.

Louisa suspected that his eagerness to keep us informed was partly due to the fact that Ana mostly answered the phone, and Louisa had observed that it always took some time before the phone was handed over to one of us.

Work on the conversion of the house had also begun and the architect was keeping us informed. As it is usually the case when touching properties of that age, the project kept on getting more and more complicated. There was a good deal of rewiring and re-plumbing to do. Still, except for the bill getting bigger and bigger, we weren't involved in any of that as the architect proved to be adequately competent.

So it took until after the end of term that Louisa brought up the subject of going down to Portwenn again. As appointed head teacher she had to be at a meeting with the school governors to plan the new term, make preparations and decisions. She had worked on concepts and applications and funding a lot lately, but this time she had to be at the meeting. She had asked me if I could come down, too. She would set the meeting on a Friday, so I only had to take one day off and we could spend a nice long weekend down there. As Louisa pointed out that having me with her would mean so much to her, I couldn't excuse myself.

I tried to justify the trip with having a look at the building work myself. I was curious how it had progressed. Louisa suggested we could take some time on Saturday to look for some furniture we might need.

So, at the end of July we found ourselves back in Cornwall. The weather was particularly hot. It was difficult to get the things done we had to organise. James was especially fidgety, as he didn't want to be too far away from the sea. Unfortunately, the Fenns were on holiday in Essex, visiting family. As long as they had been around, we could drop James at their house and have the whole morning to ourselves, getting everything sorted. To make matters worse, Ana had guests from Spain and couldn't accompany us to Cornwall. So, that day we had to entertain James and organise the renovation of the cottages plus having to deal with Louisa's meeting.

Early Saturday evening came, and we were back at the farm. We had eaten together and I was reading to James Henry, when Louisa suddenly dashed out the room, because she had an idea.

I kept on reading, hoping that this idea didn't involve me in any way.

I was wrong.

About 45 minutes later, Louisa came back into the room, when I was just starting to prepare our son for bed.

"Actually, Martin," Louisa said, "I've spoken with Al."

"Really?" I wasn't really interested in the conversation about farm management.

Now Louisa ignored me and squatted down to talk to James. "Jamie, don't you think it would be exciting to be camping tonight? Al has a tent. Wouldn't it be exciting to sleep there for one night?"

I looked at Louisa in shock. She had never done that. She had never tried to get James out of the way. And now she had already arranged a sleep-over without consulting me?!

"But why can't he just sleep in his usual room?!" I shouted.

Louisa peeked upwards. "It's a hot night and the moon is full."

"What the heck, that isn't answer!" Actually, it was an answer. One, my diary wasn't prepared for. "Tonight?" I asked incredulously.

"We won't make the move until end of next month, and you never know what the weather will be like."

"I will sleep outdoors?" James squeaked.

"Well, in a tent. Al would really like to go camping with you."

"But I want to stay with Daddy!" My son declared.

"You can stay with Daddy tomorrow night, and the night afterwards. This night, I want to spend the night with your Daddy alone. Can you understand that?"

James knew the tone in which Louisa was speaking and knew that this question expected him to agree. So Louisa told Al that everything was settled and the young man left with our son, assuring us that he would take good care of him.

The door was shut behind them. Louisa turned towards me.

"I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I mind. James being out there. Who knows what will happen."

"Nothing will happen, and James is so keen on camping. He never stopped talking about it since Al mentioned it. James will enjoy it, and it'll be good for him."

"I never went camping. Didn't do me any harm." I growled.

"But I suppose you never wanted to go camping either. Look at the bright side. When Al takes James, you're off the hook."

I grumbled something unintelligible.

"Stop grumbling." Louisa said softly.

"It's far too dangerous. James is too young to be out there alone."

Louisa stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"What?!" I asked quite annoyed.

"You make it sound as if they were on a safari in the midst of a jungle. This is Cornwall, and Al knows what he's doing."

"Well, it was Cornwall and Al didn't know what he was doing when he went camping with that moronic constable Mylow. They got lost."

"That was hardly Al's fault that it went wrong. He rather saved the day, if you remember."

I grumbled as I had to admit that Al had been the more reasonable one. Still, the most reasonable thing would have been to stay in a properly built house. That's what they are there for, after all.

"Still, it was Cornwall, and it was dangerous." I tried to make my point.

"Martin, stop fussing. It's not like they are out in the woods somewhere. It's just a tent in the grounds, merely 100 yards from here. If James doesn't like it, they're back in five minutes. Hardly any possibility of getting lost, is there?"

"I still don't see any reason why."

"First, because James wants to go camping and with Ana not being here, it's the best chance that Al will be willing to take him. Second, because I have other plans for tonight. Plans that include just you and me." Louisa told me seductively.

"So what now?" I still wasn't happy with the arrangement, but had to admit that I was outnumbered.

"I told you months ago. Remember? '_Candlelight, sea and me'_?"

"You – really?"

"It is the perfect night for it. The sand must be lovely warm from the sun, the sea will bring in a cooling breeze. And we have a full moon." Louisa said dreamily.

"OK. Let's go." I declared. To be honest, I wanted this fancy of Louisa's over and done with. I didn't think much of it, but realised that I couldn't talk her out of it, either.

"No, it's still far too bright. We have to wait for a couple of hours. It's only fun when it is at least dusk."

"That'll be hours!" Louisa knew my sleeping habits, and this was not in compliance with them.

"If you're worried about your beauty sleep, just take a nap now. I have to prepare something at the cove, anyhow. How about making a proper date out of it?"

"Huh?"

"I'll just head along and get everything sorted and you meet me there at – let's say half past nine."

"Half past nine?! That's in the middle of the night." I exclaimed.

"No, it isn't, but it's dark enough for our purpose. You'll find the way to the cove, won't you?"

"I'm no moron."

"Course you're not. Actually, make an effort. It'll be a night for us." Louisa said enthusiastically, before swishing out of the room.

_To be continued…_


	84. Chapter 84

Chapter 84

I sat down on the bed wearily. I still hadn't come to terms with such outbreaks of enthusiasm from Louisa. I just tried to compose myself, when the door opened again.

"Uhm…in case you want some inspiration for what to wear for a night at the beach – there's a shopping bag in my side of the wardrobe. Your choice. Help yourself."

_Oh goody_. Louisa and her fashion advice. They all ended in an attempt to get me out of my suit and basically making me look downright ridiculous.

It was shortly before eight, as a glance at my watch revealed. There was nothing that I could do to stop Louisa from following her ridiculous idea. The best that I could do was to get some sleep before our date.

I was just about to get my shoes off, when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." I wearily muttered, adjusting my footwear again.

"Oh…hullo Doc." Al stood sheepishly in the door. "James misses his monkey. It's not by any chance…." Al had been looking around while having James at his hand. "Ah, here it is."

"Is that all?"

"Uhm…nothing. Er…did you notice how nice the roses are coming. In the front garden? You notice?" Al was grinning. "Just sayin', that's all. Come on James."

I sighed. Since when was I interested in the horticultural developments of the farm?

I bent down to undo my shoelaces again, when Louisa's image popped into my mind. '_Make an effort'_. Was that what Al had been aiming at? Louisa had complained a couple of times that I was hardly '_Mr Hearts and Flowers'_. Would she expect me to…?

No, Louisa knew by now that she couldn't expect flowers from me. The more she would be touched if she got some, I reckoned.

I tied my shoelaces once more and marched downstairs. I contemplated to secretly pinch a rose, but my conscience kicked in. So I went into the living room, where Aunt Ruth was still reading. When she noticed me, she looked up from her _Journal of Forensic Psychiatry & Psychology_.

"I noticed Louisa leaving. Care to join me in an evening of medical studies?" She raised her journal to prove her point. "There are also some neurological journals somewhere. I can get them for you."

"Uhm…thanks. Some other time. I…er…was wondering…uhm…" Gosh, that was difficult.

"Wondering about what?"

"Flowers."

"_Flowers_?"

"Yes. Roses. _Your_ roses. In the garden."

Ruth put her journal down. "Since when are you interested in my roses? I'm not even particularly interested in them myself. It's Al's treasure. This boy has a green finger, among other hidden talents."

"Man. He's a grown-up man." I corrected her.

"I suppose so. Just my perspective, I suppose. Point is, he really makes the farm flourish. We're almost making some money out of it."

"Good." I didn't exactly want to discuss how to run a farm. "About the roses."

"Snip away. Whatever for."

"Thanks." I nodded, then went for a knife to cut the flowers.

I was assessing the bushes. There were many roses, many in perfect bloom, and all in different colours. Which one would Louisa prefer? Dark red? No, that's too obvious and almost cheap in its lack of originality. Then I remembered hearing somewhere that every rose colour had a hidden meaning. I could bet that Louisa knew all of them and that I would probably pick the one saying "Well, that's it."

Unsure what to do, I did what I always do when I reached the limits of my judgement. I did some research.

I got my smart phone out and googled "symbol rose meaning colour". Medically, I don't think much of the internet as source of information, but for trivial things like this it can get you out of the muddle.

I was just glad I didn't go for the yellow one, which I had favoured first, as '_friendship_' could have been the wrong signal for Louisa. I settled for orange, as it seemed to include passion and pride, maybe a more mature mixture as longing and desire the red rose would have symbolised.

I was astonished to find that even the number of roses could be significant. As I didn't want to plunder the whole bush, I was relieved to see that a single rose would just get a safe message across. I carefully chose one which was just starting to be in bloom. I cut it off and carefully removed all thorns with the knife.

When I reached the room I realised that I had spent almost half an hour pondering on that bloody rose. I looked at it and realised, that normally I would have regarded it as a total waste of time, but somehow, preparing for this _date_ with Louisa, it was quite a satisfying feeling that I might have got this right.

Something like anticipation had sneaked into my core. I still thought it was stupid to spend a night at the beach and I still would have felt more comfortable with a cosy night in our room rather than being on display at the beach. However, thinking about Louisa planning an evening for us, going to the trouble of long preparations without me knowing what she was up to suddenly felt exciting.

Maybe I really should make an effort and getting the rose was a good start.

I walked towards the wardrobe, where Louisa had placed the shopping bag. I decided that I could at least have a look at it before I decided against it. After all, Louisa had told me it was _my choice_.

I put the items on the bed.

The bag contained boxer shorts. They seemed to be my usual fit, but silky instead of cotton and burgundy in colour, without any pattern. Actually, the colour was a bit bolder than I was used to, but looking at them, they were quite tasteful. It wasn't anything extreme or silly. Just a bit more colourful and shiny than I usually wore. I decided to put them on.

Next, I found some cashmere trousers in a dark navy blue. They must have cost a fortune. They were not necessarily cut the way I was used to, but again, not anything too extreme. Louisa had really considered my taste and hadn't gone for something too casual. I would use them, too.

The last item was a short-sleeved silky shirt in a bold apricot. A little note was pinned on it. '_Remember, you don't have to tuck your shirt in"_.

I looked at this shirt, but it didn't do it for me. The colour was all wrong. Besides, running around with my shirt hanging lose wasn't also my idea of how to dress properly. I decided, that this was _my choice_ not to put on any shirt like this.

I went to my own wardrobe. As we have spent some weekends here already and knowing that we would be here indefinitely soon, we had brought down some of our clothes over the weeks, making the move easier. So I had a good assortment of clean clothes to choose from. I chose a shirt in a very light blue with slightly darker stripes. That should go nicely with the navy blue trousers. I had to admit, the trousers were very soft to the touch.

If I was getting Louisa's hints right, maybe I shouldn't chose a tie. She sometimes mocked my habit of always wearing one. I supposed on a dark beach with no one around but Louisa, I could give the tie a miss for once.

There was just the problem of the coat. I knew that Louisa probably would prefer to give that a miss, too, but I certainly wouldn't. However, maybe I was the one having a surprise up my sleeve this time.

I had noticed Louisa's unsubtle hints on my rather formal menswear for some time. I am a creature of habit and I will never change my way of dressing radically. However, the longer I thought about it, I decided that maybe some slight modifications would be within my comfort zone. I had screened some of the more prestigious menswear shops in London for something that would be acceptable for me as well as being a little compromise to Louisa. I didn't find much, but at least I had bought one item that might come in handy now.

I had bought it although I didn't know in what combination I might be able to wear it, but this beige sports coat had a comfortable fit and was definitely less formal than my usual suit coats.

I hadn't found any occasion to wear it yet and also didn't have the guts to tell Louisa about it. Maybe she would appreciate it if I wore that on our _date._

Last I chose my shoes, a pair of brown classic oxford. I looked at my combination and decided that this would do.

I was feeling strange. Such a profane action of choosing what to wear suddenly had a tingling of anticipation. It felt different, as I couldn't retreat to my usual combinations that I knew would go together. I had to evaluate every item, and what's more, I also had to assess Louisa's opinion without being able to ask her.

I realised, that my mind always clung to one word that Louisa had used: '_date_'.

Thinking back, we didn't have many dates during our relationship. A dozen, at most. The first dates were ruined before they truly begun. Soon we found ourselves engaged. We did have a few dates during our engagement, but after getting cold feet at the first attempt of a wedding, we didn't meet anymore. Until we moved in together.

Neither of us had seen any sense in dating when seeing each other every day and living together. Well, at least it never crossed _my_ mind. If it had crossed Louisa's, she certainly had never mentioned it.

Standing in front of my selected outfit for tonight, I realised it might be a good idea to start _dating_. It was definitely more exciting to prepare for a date than for an evening out, when Louisa and I used the bathroom in turns while changing in front of each other. This had an air of surprise and, yes, making an effort, as Louisa had put it.

The date didn't have to be outdoors, by all means, but the general idea grew on me.

So I went to the bathroom to take a shower. I shaved carefully and brushed my teeth. Then I returned into our room just in time to get ready for our date.

_To be continued…_


	85. Chapter 85

Chapter 85

I was marching towards the little cove. It was easy to find, as long as you knew where to look. I had checked my outfit and although it was more casual than I would normally wear, it didn't lack taste. I fingered nervously at the first button of my shirt which I had left undone on purpose, knowing that Louisa likes this sort of thing.

The closer I came to my destination, the more the butterflies in my stomach started their stupid dance. Really! I was just about to meet the woman I have been living with for three years! No reason to be nervous or shy.

I was neither, but a tingling of excitement and anticipation was the real culprit. This, and a secret worry that I might disappoint her – again. My record here in Cornwall was rather unfavourable. This wasn't my natural habitat and I am always running the risk of doing something silly. Our general record on dates wasn't so good either, so maybe I had reason to worry.

I stopped for a moment, hesitating, wondering if I should rather avoid this trap and excuse myself with the little nausea I had indeed started to feel.

I took a deep breath and looked at the sea. The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, but the sun was still reflecting on the sea, creating a blue light. It was still easy to find your way. It was probably exactly the sort of setting Louisa would find romantic. I peeked at the rose in my hand. Maybe I should have gone for a traditionally dark red one? Should I go back?

Ellingham! I scolded myself, you are just trying to find an excuse. Don't keep the lady waiting. Where are your manners?!

Determined to keep my appointment in time, I strode towards the little path leading down to the cove. A couple of tea lights marked the way down. Louisa obviously didn't want to risk me missing it.

I carefully took the path to the cove. On my way down, I could see several tea lights scattered across the whole cove. A couple of bigger candles were positioned around a little table with two chairs. Good. So Louisa didn't expect me to sit on the sand, although I also made out the square of a picnic rug.

Louisa herself stood near the waves looking at the horizon. She embraced herself with both arms tightly. Either she was cold, or she felt equally and irrationally insecure as I did.

I had finally reached the cove. I paused a moment, trying to get the butterflies in my stomach and the lump in my throat under control. I still didn't know why I felt again as if I was on a first date while the woman in front of me knew every inch of my skin and more than anyone else of what lay beneath.

I felt again like I did as a young student, at a time when I was still writing poetry.

Just that I had caged my feelings in verses then, making them follow strict rules.

Tonight, there were no rules that I would know of.

I slowly went towards Louisa. She had a sleeveless top and a rather short skirt on. I realised it would be very difficult for me tonight to concentrate, especially as the skirt did accentuate her bum quite nicely.

Shortly before I had reached her, she turned around. She was biting her lip. I was sure now. It was ridiculous. We _both_ were nervous.

"Glad you've come. I…I wasn't sure anymore." When she had started to speak, she had looked me straight in the eye. Now, her eyes were wandering down, assessing me.

Awkwardly I held the rose towards her, still not trusting my voice to be steady, so I kept quiet.

"Martin?"

"Uhm."

"Is that for me?"

"Eh…uhum." Gosh! Why did I always lose my eloquence in moments like this? I mean, it's not that I am not well-spoken.

"A rose? How beautiful!"

"Eh…" Get _some words out, you idiot!_ "From the garden. I removed the thorns."

Louisa ran her slender finger up and down the stem. I watched the finger and saw the light touch on that plant and my mind worked overtime.

"How thoughtful of you." Louisa bit her lip again. It was dusky, so I wasn't completely sure, but I had a feeling she was blushing. She nodded in my direction. "I see you've found my shopping."

"Ah…yes."

"I hope it's not as bad as the last time."

"No."

"I see you did use the trousers."

"Yes." I nodded.

Louisa turned her head and looked to her side. Then she started to giggle.

"Does it look…that bad?" I asked now completely out of my depth.

"Sorry." Louisa tried to compose herself. "It has nothing to do with you. Well, it has, but not the trousers. I mean the ones you're wearing." She giggled again. "Stupid really." She sighed. "Nerves."

"Uhm… I understand."

"You do? I mean I don't understand it myself."

"Silly really."

"Yeah, really silly." She stretched her hand out and fingered for mine. "You look really…."

"Uh…"

"…dashing."

"Don't be daft!" That was stretching it a bit far.

"No, really." She removed her hand from mine and ran it over the lapel of my jacket. "I haven't seen that on you."

"It's new."

"Really?"

"London."

"Of course. It's just…"

"What?"

"It's not quite your usual style."

"Don't you like it?"

"I think it suits you. Actually, your shoulders look even a bit broader with this fit." She ran her hands across my shoulders. "You really look…not quite what I expected….but _really_ good." Louisa's eyes still assessed me and I felt even more awkward.

"What did you expect?" When I didn't meet her expectation it usually meant that I disappointed her.

"Actually, I wasn't sure you'd even consider what I bought for you. So the trousers are an unexpected surprise. So I really prepared myself that you would show up in your usual suits. Not that there's anything wrong with them!" Louisa quickly added.

"However," she took a deep breath, "for a rather informal occasion I thought casual would do. So, part of me was hoping that you would use my shopping, I hoped that you'd use it as it was. All of it."

"Sorry," I mumbled, "but the shirt…" I couldn't finish because Louisa's finger touched my lips, signalling me to shut up.

"This is better." She said softly. "Much better."

"Really?" I didn't expect that.

"It shows you considered it and thought about it. It is worth ten times more than simply following my lead. Besides, you really have extraordinarily good taste. You even broadened your taste to smart casual. _Very smart_ casual."

Louisa giggled again, then stopped abruptly.

"I…prepared something."

"Yes?"

"I promised you a moonshine picnic."

"We've already eaten."

"About three hours ago. Besides, it's really light. I mean, I know your eating habits. I searched for something low carb and low fat. Please?"

"Right." I straightened my coat. I haven't felt this insecure with Louisa since we tried our first invitations. "A table?" I stated the obvious.

"Ah, yes. I remembered last time that you didn't quite like the sand."

"But the rug?"

"Oh, yes." Louisa looked down, then looked up to my eyes again. "Just in case we want to make ourselves a bit more comfortable. Later. I brought a larger one, so it should fit completely."

"Ah…uhum…."

Louisa slid her hand into mine and slowly pulled me towards the table. There was a candle in a wine bottle in the middle of the table. Also a wine cooler with a bottle of white wine and bottled natural mineral water. A collection of fruits was arranged in a small bowl. Opposite each other were our plates.

Louisa noticed that I looked at it and obviously felt the need to defend herself.

"Actually, it's just a little salad. Wild rice salad. With beans and avocado. A bit of salmon on top. It's…"

"It looks lovely." I told her truthfully. Louisa has a tendency for bad eating habits, but this time I couldn't criticize her.

"I hoped you would approve."

I helped Louisa with her chair and then sat opposite her.

"Do you mind if I…I would like some wine." Louisa almost asked for my permission.

I took the cooled bottle and filled her glass. Louisa tried to straighten her small skirt, although she should have realised that she would never be able to stretch it to her knees. I couldn't help but peek at her thighs.

"Thank you." Her lovely face beamed at me from the other side of the candle.

I cleared my throat. "You're welcome."

"I suppose you don't want to…"

"Uhm…I tend to fall…"

"…asleep." We both finished the sentence in unison.

Louisa chuckled. "I remember."

I poured myself some water.

Louisa nodded. "Enjoy."

I lifted the fork halfway to my mouth, stopped and looked over to Louisa. "I suppose I will."

_To be continued…_


	86. Chapter 86

Chapter 86

"This is delicious." I complimented her.

"Thank you. I wasn't sure you'd approve of eating late."

"Lot's of vitamins. Do I detect a touch of lemon and garlic?"

"Yes."

"Very healthy."

Louisa looked at her plate.

"The fruits look very tasty, too." I added.

"So do you." Louisa ran her finger over the back of my hand, which was just reaching for the water.

I stopped in my motion and our eyes met.

Louisa withdrew her hands and buried her head in them.

I reached over to touch her.

"What's wrong?" I tried to ask as softly as I could, disguising my own concerns.

Louisa shook her head.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Louisa looked up. "Except for being sweet, you mean?"

"Don't you want me to?"

Louisa laughed. "Now you're even witty."

"Tell me." I urged her.

"No, maybe you can tell _me_." Louisa said emphatically. "I mean…after all these years, and I'm feeling like a school girl at her first ball!"

Louisa's hand sank onto the table and shook slightly. I covered it with mine. I gulped.

There was a long pause, which was only filled by the lapping of the waves against the shore.

"We're just not used to dating." I said.

"You mean – you?"

"I was terribly nervous. Still am." I confessed.

Louisa laughed nervously.

"Thinking about it, we didn't have so many dates." I added.

"Maybe you're right." Louisa finally answered. "We made an awful mess of things. And I had such nice plans for us."

"I don't want it any other way." I said it and I meant it.

"But nothing was as it should have been." Louisa protested. "Everything was in the wrong order."

"If we'd proceeded in the right order, who knows where we would be now?"

Louisa laughed again, which was good. "I can tell you one thing – at the speed our relationship was moving forward, James Henry wouldn't even be a gleam in your eyes."

"He would."

"I bet not."

"You don't know my eyes."

Louisa looked up and straight at me. "You're wrong there. If it hadn't been for them, we wouldn't be here."

I cocked my head.

"You know…there are moments…a _few_ moments….when there's such vulnerability in them. I guess I'd never have fallen for you if it wasn't for those eyes."

"So because of my weakness…." My voice trailed off, as I didn't understand.

"No, Martin." Louisa reached over to cup my face with her right hand. "Your strength is that you can deal with your weaknesses. You can soldier on, no matter what. You never fail, in the end."

"I …did fail."

"And turned it into something better every time. You are an extraordinary man, Martin."

I cleared my throat. I picked up my cutlery again. "Maybe…we'd better finish the salad."

"Yes." Louisa sighed and started plunging the fork into the salad. After a moment she put the fork down again.

"Why? Why can't you take a compliment?"

I just looked at my plate and took another bite from the salad, which was indeed light and tasty.

We ate in silence for some time, but when I reached for my water, I felt Louisa's slender fingers running over mine again.

"I am very happy with you." Louisa said, accentuating her words with gentle caresses of my wrist.

"Uhm…good." I started to collect myself.

"And you?"

"Yes." I hoped my answer was satisfactory. I glanced over and saw Louisa looking at me expectantly. "Do you think we've done enough…for us – as a couple, lately?"

"No, Martin, we never have."

"Hm. Right."

"That's why you called me in the middle of the night during the conference months ago, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it was."

"It was then that all this started, or did you think about it before?" Louisa had let go of my hand and fingered for the rose that was still on the table between us.

"No…not at all. Then."

"Why? What made you think about it?"

I breathed in deeply. I touched her hand, which was still holding the rose I'd picked. "I missed you. And I realised..." I looked down on our hands, "how much I do love being with you and James."

"Yes, but you also love London and your job there. And you had it all."

"I didn't. It wasn't you anymore, in London."

"Have I changed?"

"No. Not here. There."

"You have. A lot."

"Is that bad?" I tilted my head.

"You remember our drunken night? My desperate attempt to find the _real_ you?"

"Yes."

"If this across the table is the _real you_, then I'm a very lucky woman."

"I am the lucky one. People keep telling me. They don't know why you're still with me."

"Then we're both lucky. What more do we want?"

I ducked my head. It seemed I made her happy, which was unexpected but good.

"There's just one thing that's worrying me." Louisa continued.

My head bobbed up.

"You are giving _so_ much – you're sacrificing your job, you've agreed to commute a lot more, you'll move to a place you loathe – and I'm just getting what I want – and I have no idea how to make it up to you."

"You don't have to. As long as you and James are happy."

Louisa shook her head, a bit sad it seemed. "No, Martin, it just doesn't work that way." She looked up. "It wouldn't be fair if you give everything and don't get anything back. My problem is that I simply don't know how I can make it more bearable for you. Everything you want and like is in London, everything I like is here. I can't get your job down here, nor the amenities and anonymity of London. I could refuse to come back, but that would mean that I didn't appreciate your gift, but I do. Besides, James is looking forward to living here, too."

"I don't expect you…" I couldn't finish my sentence.

"No, Martin, I know. You know, most men would rather run a mile than to face their responsibilities. You grab them with both hands. You're trying to make our lives easier. I guess you don't know that, but you brought stability into my life. Security. I don't have to worry about a thing anymore, because I know if I need someone, you'll be there. Dependable. No matter what it would cost you."

"Naturally."

Louisa sighed and a smile formed on her lips. "_Naturally._" She paused for a moment. "For _you_ it is natural. I have never met anyone who gave so generously and found it so natural. I bet you don't even expect anything in return."

"But I get a lot in return!" I protested.

"Like what?"

I was looking for the right words. There was no doubt in my mind whatsoever that the family I had gained was worth every sacrifice I had to make with my career. However, I didn't know how to describe it to Louisa. It simply didn't make sense that reading to James, cuddling together with Louisa, seeing both of them happy could weigh as much as a well-paid job at one of the most prestigious hospitals. It didn't sound as significant, but for me it was.

"See, you can't tell me either." Louisa remarked after I had pondered on an answer fruitlessly.

"No…yes…I mean."

"See."

"No, Louisa. I get a lot, believe me."

"Don't get me wrong, you don't have to justify yourself and I don't expect any declaration of eternal love. I really don't _expect_ anything from you. I just…want to make sure you're happy, too."

"I am." I nodded vigorously. "Absolutely."

"There must be _something_ I can do to make life easier for you down here. I mean, you always loathed being here."

"That's fine. Absolutely."

"_Absolutely_. If you can think of something you'd enjoy, please tell me. Promise?"

"Ah…Uhum."

"The only thing I can think of so far is to try to make our home as nice as possible. Trying to get my messy streak under control. Trying to get some of the duties off your hands if you have to commute and I haven't. Most of all, I think you'd prefer our home to be a private place, so I'll try to ban all villagers."

"But you like their company."

"Yes, and I can get that outside our walls. I don't expect you to mingle or tolerate them in your private space. That should be your place to relax, not some place to drive you crazy."

"Oh…uhum…thank you."

"Maybe one thing more. You always try to consider my needs, try to get the lead from me, try to be considerate, I suppose. You seldom let yourself go, and if you do, only after seeking my approval first. You have learned to control yourself and have a strict hold on your emotions. You simply never learned to trust your instincts, I suppose. As far as I can tell, you have quite healthy instincts, but you don't trust their lead. Maybe you'd feel better if you'd let go a bit. Maybe we can start tonight. Just do what comes naturally. Don't ask for my approval first. Just do what comes into your head. See how it feels."

_To be continued…_


	87. Chapter 87

Chapter 87

"It was a good idea." I assured her after a short pause.

"What was?"

"This." I nodded towards the now empty plates. "I've been thinking."

"Something I should know?"

"Eh…yes. When I was dressing, I thought, maybe we could…should…start dating again? I mean…occasionally?"

"Really? I thought you'd find my idea…not very appealing."

"Uhm…yes…at first."

Louisa picked up the rose and sniffed at it. "What changed your mind?"

"It's _different_ when you are preparing for a date. I had to think more about what you'd like. It shook up my routine."

"But that's what you don't like. Your routine being disrupted."

"Yes, Yes, I know." I was confused myself. Louisa was right, it all didn't add up, but somehow it worked just the same. "Still."

"Still – what?"

"Thinking about you – your likes and dislikes – was…good." I nodded.

Louisa looked down at the table, then into my eyes again.

"I didn't really think of it that way. You're so clever. And you're absolutely right. As always. I…also hoped that I was meeting your likes. I tried to, you know. I mean, in choosing the food, using the table instead of the rug, that sort of thing. Not the picnic itself. That's what I really wanted, but I really tried to make it…" Louisa was obviously looking for the right word. "…acceptable for you."

"It was…is." I stammered.

"We are also quite lucky. It's a lovely evening for being at the beach, isn't it?"

"At least we don't have to worry about sunburns and seagulls."

"No, Martin, but that's not _exactly_ what I meant. Just look at the stars? Aren't they beautiful? Look at that one, that's quite bright!"

"It is part of Cassiopeia."

"Part of _what_?"

"Cassiopeia, you know the star constellations?"

"Actually, I don't. I just find them pretty."

"Ah." I could never understand why Louisa didn't get information on things she was interested in, but I'd had too many discussions on this with Louisa to add another one.

Louisa got up and walked towards me, taking one of my hands. "Why…" she started in her most seductive voice, "don't you tell me all about it? I never had anyone who could explain the night sky to me."

"Alright, let's see…there is this…"

"Would you mind very much if we could cuddle up on the rug. It's more comfortable, at least for me it is, and we could snuggle close. On these chairs we are _miles_ apart."

When I paused a moment, Louisa assured me. "Only if it's not too disgusting for you. Your choice."

Louisa was still tugging at my hand and I gave in. "As long as you tell me what I ought to do."

And so she did. I sat down on the rug, the warmth from the sand still coming from the blanket, my legs slightly spread so that Louisa could sit between them. I put my arms around her from behind and she rested her back against my chest, snuggling close. I explained to her the constellations in the night skies, the main stars, the stars most commonly used for navigation, and that this time of the year shooting stars were most likely. I told her the reason and showed her where she was most likely to see one.

"You're so awfully clever. How come you know all that?" Louisa purred.

"Some nights, at boarding school, I couldn't sleep. There was nothing I could do. The lights had to be out at a certain time. So I sneaked to the window and all I could see were the stars. So I got an astronomy book from the library."

Louisa rubbed my sleeve. "Did that make your nights more…"

"…much more interesting. I could compare the stars I already knew with the ones I had still to learn."

"You always took comfort from learning, knowing more than the others, didn't you?"

"Uhm…no…it's just interesting."

"And it made you better than the rest, put you above them."

"I never really thought of it that way."

"Is there anything you didn't learn from books, on your own, but that someone explained to you?"

"We had some teachers at school that were quite demanding."

"No, Martin, I didn't mean people paid to teach you, but someone who took his time to explain something to you. Like you did now with the stars. Like you do all the time with James."

"Uhm…." I thought for a while. "Must have been, but I can't really remember."

"Did anyone ever teach you things to do together that are fun?"

I put my head on her shoulder. "You did."

Louisa gave my knee a slap. "Not that!"

"Uhm…there are lots of things you taught me to do together."

"Maybe it's time to add something new?"

"Hm?"

"I…compiled a bit of music. Some romantic tunes to do with night and stars and such. You care to dance?"

"I…do not really dance."

"You mean you cannot or you don't like to?"

"Uhm…I don't like it."

"Good, you mind watching me dancing a bit? When I feel happy, I like to dance."

"Uh…alright."

So Louisa got up and switched on a CD-player, which made a huge impact on the silence around us.

Louisa started to move to '_Moondance_', mouthing her words at me. I laid back, propping myself up on my elbow, watching her. She had such a nice way to move. Elegant without being presumptuous, enticing without being sexy in a cheap way. I simply loved the way her body moved, so I was quite happy in lying relaxed, just watching her.

The loudspeakers started to hum '_Quiet Night of Quiet Stars'_ and I listened to the lyrics while Louisa danced her lonely bossa nova under the stars:

'_I who was lost and lonely believing life was only_

_A bitter tragic joke, have found with you,_

_The meaning of existence, oh my love'_

_To be continued…_


	88. Chapter 88

Chapter 88

I don't know if it was Louisa's hip movements or the moon or the heat that was still lingering in the air. I heard those lines and suddenly I reached out for Louisa. I got hold of one of her arms and grabbed her.

Louisa stopped in her motions and looked down at me, the full moon like a gloriole behind her head. Louisa hesitated, but when I sat up and tugged at her arm slightly, she sat down next to me. I didn't know why, but I pushed her onto the rug. My hand sneaked up to her hair.

The silly bossa was still squeaking from the speakers. Our lips met. Louisa's body arched against me. I took her into my arms and hugged her tightly, still deepening the kiss.

There was something in the evening air, something…. invigorating.

I came up for air, and Louisa stammered: "Martin?"

I attacked her lips again with mine. There was a passion, which didn't turn into sexual lust. I mean, I did lust after her, but being in the open prevented that I actually went the whole way, and a small part of my lust-filled mind knew that. I was turned on, knowing that I had to hold back. It was different than in our bedroom. There was also the awareness that it was possible, even if not likely, that someone could pass by and see us.

Nevertheless, I dug my hand deeper into her hair and felt her hand reaching for the back of my head. Our tongues battled, and I felt her hand on my hip.

I had to come up for air again.

When our lips parted, Louisa's grip on my hip became more prominent.

"You've got rhythm." She smiled. "I bet you're a marvellous dancer."

"What? No."

"Your hips were swaying perfectly in tune." She pulled herself up and bit my earlobe before whispering. "Or maybe it was pure anticipation?"

"Oh, my love!" I couldn't help but whisper.

Louisa drew her head back to look fully at me, then tilted her head. "Since when do you use endearing names?"

I realised what I had said and I must have looked confused.

"Never mind since when or why. I love it." Louisa purred. Before she could attack my mouth again, I realised why I had said it.

"Just quoting."

"Unquote - I love you too." Louisa whispered and clung to my shoulders to kiss me again. This time, she took my hand and guided it up and down her thigh. I didn't need much encouragement. Her skirt was _really_ short and while lying down had even slipped upward. It didn't need much effort to reach the top of her thigh. Heat emanating from her. I had to get my hands off there, or the whole thing would get out of control.

However, when I loosened the grip on Louisa's legs, she coiled herself around me. Our bodies intertwined and Louisa pressed her thigh against my hip. Before I knew it, she was on top, running her hungry hands over my shoulders.

"I like that in a man…" She purred.

"A jacket?"

"More what's underneath that." She slid her hands between the shirt buttons. I knew what would come next.

I sat upright. "No, Louisa." I whispered.

"What?"

"No stripping." I said.

Louisa shuffled backwards. "But…?"

"I won't do it on a beach – or anywhere else in the open."

"You mean you got me all worked up and now you cross your legs and that's it?"

"Uhm…I…I enjoy kissing."

"Yeah, so do I. But…"

"No. Not anything further. Not here."

Louisa breathed in deeply. "You're one of a kind." She fingered her hair. "Well, let's see. Thing is, I am really turned on. Thing is also, that the beach is nice, but…well…I suppose walking back might be an option, but it'll take a long time." Louisa paused a moment. "Damn." She whispered.

"If you want to leave."

"_Want_ isn't exactly how I'd put it, but if you don't want to go any further."

"Not here. I'm fine so far, but that's the limit."

"You can really control yourself. Would that mean you're still really in the mood when we're back at the farm?"

"You can test me?"

"Cheeky. I'll take you by your word." Louisa said, got up and took me by the hand.

"All this stuff…" I asked annoyed, pointing towards all the picnic equipment. I really didn't like the thought of a major logistic operation.

"Ah…yes. We should take the food and the wine, I suppose."

"And the table and chairs and rug…" I continued quite exasperated.

"Nah, we can come to get it tomorrow."

"You can't just leave it here at the beach!" I exclaimed.

"There's a little cave over there." Louisa pointed towards the cliffs. "The water practically never gets in there, no one sees it, no harm done."

So we gathered everything and stuffed it into the cave. Then we headed up the cliffs, on our way to the farm. Louisa had quite wandering hands on our way. The only way I could keep her somewhat under control was to put my arm firmly around her and hug her tightly. Still, that didn't stop her from fondling my bottom, but it was still ten times better than what she had done with her hands before.

When we arrived at the farm, Ruth was still in the living room reading. We had to pass the door to get to the stairs, so we couldn't help having Ruth notice us.

"You're still up? It's quite late for you." Ruth asked with a raised eyebrow.

Louisa just shouted towards Ruth "And a good night to you, too!" while shoving me up the stairs, giggling.

I heard Ruth answering something, but couldn't quite get what she said. Actually, I was quite glad not to hear what she'd said. It couldn't have been anything good.

Louisa pushed me into our room and before I could turn around, I already heard the key turn in the lock.

_To be continued…_


	89. Chapter 89

Chapter 89

When I woke up, light was dimly shining though the blinds. It was probably very early morning. As usual, I had slept on my back, and I could feel the weight of Louisa's head on my chest. I carefully tilted my head a tiny bit, moving very slowly so as not to wake Louisa. I peeked down and saw her dark hair spread over my chest, still tousled.

Louisa had been worried last night that she was on the receiving end, while I'd be the giving one. I couldn't find words to assure her that she was giving more than I had ever received before I met her.

This was far better than anything money and a high position could buy. And I don't mean necessarily what she had given so generously as soon as the bedroom door was closed.

I mean moments like this. This perfect moment. The calmness I feel. The sense of belonging. Her assurance last night that I had given her stability and security. That I could give her something she couldn't provide for herself. That this remarkable woman, who was sometimes more independent than I would have liked, as I always felt inferior as I needed her so much more than I thought she'd need me - that this woman had assured me that I was important to her.

Maybe I could undo some of the pain her irresponsible parents had inflicted on her. If I could achieve that, my life will have been well lived.

I must have dozed off again, as the next time I opened my eyes, Louisa was looking at me, peeking up from her position on my chest.

"Mornin'" she smiled.

"Good morning."

"Sleep well?" She whispered.

"Uhum." Somehow talking seemed wrong on this perfect morning. Talking always bore the danger of saying something wrong. I'd rather enjoy our nearness, but Louisa obviously needed conversation. "And you?"

"Best in a long time." She stretched like a contented kitten and settled back on my chest. She nodded towards the chair where my clothes had been hastily discarded the night before. "I was pleasantly surprised that you had used the boxer shorts I'd bought for you."

"I'm astonished that you noticed, given the speed you ripped them off me."

I could feel Louisa chuckle, her warm breath in short intervals against my skin. "Don't worry, I noticed alright, even though I might not have given them proper appreciation. Sorry, but I was somehow distracted." Louisa ran her hand over my chest.

"Thank you for last night." She purred, then propped herself up and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"You're welcome." I was touched by her gentle morning greetings. "Anytime."

Louisa's breath brushed against my skin again, and I could have stayed like this forever.

I should have known that quiet moments like this have a very short half-life in Portwenn.

Suddenly there was a hubbub somewhere. At least four voices were agitatedly talking at the same time.

"What the heck!" I sat up in our bed.

Louisa put her hand on my chest, trying to push me back into the pillows.

"That's not for us. If they need us, they know where we are."

I kept sitting, trying to be persuaded by Louisa's logic, but the voices kept on talking and it made me uneasy not to know what it was all about.

"Sorry." I mumbled, when I reached for my robe, leaving Louisa disappointed.

I grabbed a collection of my clothes to get dressed quickly and check what the kerfuffle was all about.

Out of the corners of my eyes I saw Louisa roll to the edge of the bed. "No need for you to get up." I told her.

"What's the point in staying in bed when you are up and about?" Louisa nodded towards the door. "You can use the bathroom first."

I quickly washed and dressed, leaving the shower for later. Going down, I quickly took a look into the bedroom and signalled Louisa that I had finished my preparations for the day.

Then I marched downstairs and followed the voices. I found out that the assembly was taking place in front of the front door.

I also realised that my estimation of four voices involved had been correct. The voices belonged to Ruth, Al, James and Penhale, of all people.

As soon as I stepped out into the open, James tugged at Al's hand, shouting "Daddy, Daddy…the camping…it was really cool…."

While Penhale beamed at Ruth. "I told you he'd be awake. An early riser – it takes one to know one."

While Ruth rolled her eyes and muttered wearily "Martin, next time you…" She couldn't finish her sentence or at least I couldn't hear it as the other voices kept yapping.

I hate people speaking all at once. It confuses me. I clapped my hands loudly and yelled "QUIET!"

Immediately all the noise stopped and everyone looked at me with eyes wide open.

In the silence Al said: "Mornin' Doc."

_To be continued…_


	90. Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Louisa chose exactly this moment to appear next to me.

"Morning Al." She said, then turned towards me. "What's the turmoil all about?"

"I have absolutely no idea." I told her.

Obviously everyone took this as a hint to start talking again, and all the voices were melting together into a huge noise.

I clapped my hands once more. "SHUSH!"

Then I pointed towards Al. "You – take James upstairs for his morning routine."

Al nodded and trotted off, James in tow, who was protesting vehemently. "But Daddy, Mummy, I _need _to tell you…."

"Later." I cut him short.

Then I turned towards Penhale. "You – what are you doing here?"

The constable grinned at us, looking like the idiot he was. Slowly he unhooked one of his thumbs from his belt and pointed over his shoulder towards his car.

"I've got a couple of things that I suppose belong to you." He grinned from ear to ear. I peeked over his shoulder towards his Bedford. On the bed of his car was an assembly of things I vaguely remembered. I stared mouth agape, first at the car, then down towards Louisa, who shrugged her shoulders.

"Where on earth did you find them?" I asked a bit dumbfounded, my brain still refusing to accept the obvious explanation.

"Where do you think?" Louisa asked me. "Probably where we left them." She looked towards the grinning moron. "Thanks, Joe, for bringing them."

"All part of the service." Penhale hooked his thumb in his belt again. "Where shall I put it all?"

Now Ruth came alive. "The chairs and table are usually in one of the sheds, but you can leave them here. Al can put them away later."

"Nah, what's the use. I can put them where they belong. No bother."

"How did you know where they were?" I stammered, and I regretted my question as soon as it had left my mouth.

Louisa looked innocently up to me with a pitiful look.

"Thing is," he started and the way he began made me fear for a longwinded description, "I was called out last night. Late last night. You know, a police man's work is never done. Always on duty – 24/7, but of course you know what I mean." He unhooked his belt to nudge me in an uncomfortably familiar way. "Fishermen had seen some lights. Thought they might be signals for smugglers."

"Smugglers?" I exclaimed incredulously. "Don't be daft!"

"Now, Doc, you'd never believe how much of a problem smuggling still is around here."

"You're right, I don't believe it." I grumbled, while my mind slowly started to fear the worst.

"As a lay person you probably think it's a thing of the past, but we professionals have to deal with it all the time."

"When exactly did you last arrest any smugglers?" I shot back.

"Well – I mean…" The PC started to stammer, but then collected himself, "Fact is that it is a huge problem at all coastal areas. The Coast Path was specifically designed as defence against smugglers."

"Back in the 18th century." I moaned. "Wake up, man, we're entered the 21st century already. Well, most of us."

"Yeah, I know, but it's still a problem. Anyway, I was called out because of those lights. So I drove towards the target area, but parked my car a good deal away. I didn't want to alarm the baddies, understand?" The police man tipped his finger against his head, but the connotation I had with this gesture probably wasn't the one he had intended.

"Then I slowly approached the target area. As the moon was full, shortly before I reached the cove in question, I lay flat on the ground and slowly crawled forward. Clever!" He was incredibly full of himself.

I groaned.

"Guess what? There weren't any smugglers at all!" Penhale triumphantly announced.

"Of course there were no smugglers!" I yelled at him.

"Yeah, you know of course. I mean, you two…" He used his thumb to point from Louisa to me and back again, "…I mean you two know where those lights came from."

"Gawd!" I sighed, while I felt Louisa's fingers fishing for mine.

"As I realised that there was no smuggling operation ongoing, I refrained from intervening. Still there was a possibility that you might violate the code of conduct, so I decided to stay in the background in case there was some need for intervention."

"You didn't?!" I gasped.

"Yep, didn't want to disturb you. You seemed quite…preoccupied." Penhale smirked. Ruth looked at me and I could see the corners of her mouth twitch.

"At one point I was worried that I would have to intervene, but everything I saw was acceptably decent, according to my point of view. You didn't even leave any litter behind, but I expected no less." The PC proudly announced.

"There was just the little matter of the chairs, table and such, which were stowed away improperly. However, I gave you the benefit of the doubt that you would have collected your stuff later. As I had the Bedford nearby, I thought I could save you the trouble and drop it off."

"Thanks, Joe, that's very kind." My wife said softly.

"No!" I shouted at him and squared my shoulders. "What did you actually see?" I demanded to know.

Louisa squeezed my hand. "When exactly did we stow away our stuff." Louisa nodded towards the policeman. "Just drop it over there. We'll take care of it."

I breathed in deeply to give Penhale a piece of my mind. Louisa must have sensed it as she lowly said. "Let it rest."

Penhale unloaded all the equipment we have left in the cove the evening before and then waved at us.

"Always glad to help. So if you need anything…" He spread his hand to indicate we just had to call.

"Not in a million years." I mumbled.

Then he hopped into his vehicle and headed off.

Ruth turned towards us, trying hard to suppress a smirk. "Interesting." She stated matter-of-factly. "Maybe next time you get romantic, you can avoid having the police in the house the next morning."

_To be continued…_


	91. Chapter 91

Chapter 91

I survived breakfast only by summoning up all of my willpower. I didn't have much appetite anyway after this morning's confusion. Matters were made worse by everyone at the breakfast table trying to avoid mentioning it at all. It's not that I would have liked everyone banging on about last night and us being witnessed, but them purposefully ignoring the subject was almost worse. I felt as if everyone was staring at me, trying not to tread on dangerous ground.

Therefore almost the only conversation that morning had been James's bubbly and exited description of him sleeping in that disgusting tent. Al just chimed in occasionally to correct some overdramatised comments of our enthusiastic son. My lips curled in disgust imagining all the germs my dear boy had been exposed to. Louisa, however, seemed to approve and to encourage him.

As soon as this wretched meal was over, I excused myself to seek shelter in our bedroom.

I sat on the bed, my head buried in my hands. I felt awful. Head throbbing, a bit lightheaded and I felt sick in my stomach. Gawd, what a morning!

I don't know for how long I had been sitting there, before Louisa slipped quietly in and plonked herself onto the mattress next to me.

For some time, she just kept sitting next to me and I felt more than I could see that she was stealing glances.

"Having a headache?" she finally asked.

My whole body seemed to weigh a ton and I seemed to be drained of all energy. I just numbly nodded.

Louisa rubbed my back. "Poor thing." She whispered.

I turned my head sideways to look at her.

"You didn't have much appetite either." She simply stated.

I didn't really fancy any discussion about my welfare. "Where's James?" I asked her.

"Helping Al do the dishes."

"You mean slowing him down." I muttered, which made Louisa chuckle.

"You're probably right. Still, it's good for James to get used to these chores, and who knows, someday he might even be good at it."

"Someday perhaps." For the moment it was hard to imagine that our boisterous boy could be good at any serious job, but time would settle him down eventually.

I buried my head in my hands again. It seemed that as soon as I shielded my eyes from the light and my neck didn't have to carry the weight of my head, the throbbing behind my temples was more bearable.

"Shall I get you some Paracetamol?" Louisa asked.

"That won't help." I knew where the headache came from and some simple acetaminophen wouldn't cure that.

"Can I help in any other way?" Louisa seemed determined to help me, but there wasn't anything she could do.

"No. You shouldn't have come just for that." I tried to assure her that she didn't have to stop whatever she was doing just for my stupid headache.

"I didn't come for that. Not just for that, I mean." Louisa sounded more sincere, so I looked at her.

"Huh?"

"Mainly I came to thank you."

"_Thank_ me? Whatever for?" Now she had my attention, as I had done nothing whatsoever worth thanking me for.

"For being my level-headed, reasonable husband. For not giving in to all of my fancies, when I got carried away." She rubbed my shoulder.

"Usually you scold me for being too stuffy?" I burst out without thinking and regretted it the moment I said it.

Louisa bit her lower lip, as she always does when she's insecure or thinking, or trying to keep her composure. She sighed.

"Sorry." She muttered. "I know. That was wrong. _Very_ wrong. Can you forgive me?" She looked at me sincerely, and her tone and look seemed to indicate that she was genuine.

"Easily done." I stammered astonished.

"Yeah, too easily done. Still, it's wrong though, and I shouldn't do it." Louisa leaned over and pecked my cheek. "After all, I love you for who you are." She smiled at me.

Now I was completely puzzled. I was so puzzled, that I had even forgotten my headache.

"Where did that suddenly come from?" I asked her.

Louisa played with a strand of her hair. "It's about last night. If it wasn't for you and your admirable self-control, the evening could have ended rather embarrassingly."

"It _did_ end embarrassingly." I sternly corrected her.

"No, not really."

"Don't tell me you don't care that that…that…_idiot_…Gawd!"

"Truth be told, I would have preferred it if the evening would have been just for the two of us. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have necessarily sold tickets, not even to Joe. Still, I don't see any reason for being embarrassed. Not as much, anyhow, as if I'd had it my way."

I groaned. I didn't even want to start to imagine how things would have gone if I had let Louisa strip me.

"Yeah, exactly." Louisa sighed. "I was so sure that at least we could be alone in that remote cove in the middle of the night."

"This is Portwenn. You're never alone here. Only in your own home, if you're lucky." I moaned.

"Seems you're right."

"Yes." I sighed.

"So that's why I want to thank you. For stopping your amorous wife from going too far." Louisa fingered for my hand.

"But I didn't. I mean Penhale still saw us." I objected.

"But what exactly did he see, hm? If even Penhale thought that everything he saw was decent – and he's really a prude, you know – then there really wasn't anything to be ashamed of."

"He must have seen the kissing." I managed to say despite my disgust.

"So what? Isn't a husband allowed to snog his wife? It's not as we were caught philandering. You are my husband. I'm your wife. Joined to spend the days _and nights_ together for the rest of our days. Actually, I don't mind people knowing that my sexy husband still finds me attractive." Louisa declared with gusto.

The last comment took me by surprise on various levels, and my brain wasn't sure which information to question first. "Why…what…Rubbish!" I finally grunted.

"What is rubbish?" Louisa asked insistently. "That we're married? Or that we are joined for the rest of our lives?"

"No, of course not. But…I'm…I'm hardly…" I felt myself blush and couldn't bring myself to repeat this absolutely ridiculous assumption.

"Oh, you think you're not sexy? Well, if you don't believe your wife – although I have investigated this subject very thoroughly, I can assure you – just ask Mrs. Tishell. She will tell you."

"Nonsense." I crossed my arms, and my throbbing headache was more prominent than ever.

Now Louisa was laughing. "Yeah, maybe better not. That might give her the wrong idea." Louisa leant against my shoulder. "But I wasn't kidding about you being sexy, at least for me you are. And I don't mind people knowing, because I'm proud of being your wife."

Suddenly Louisa's wording alarmed me. "What do you mean – _people_? You don't think Penhale will….?" I wasn't able to put this nightmare into words, afraid it might become real more easily then.

"No, I don't think Penhale will tell anyone. Actually, I think he will try hard not to let it slip." Louisa sighed. "That's just the problem. Poor Joe."

"What do you mean '_Poor Joe'_?" I was far from feeling sorry for Penhale, if I felt sorry about anyone, then it was me.

"He just means well, you know. It's just that he's…well, he's a bit…"

"…stupid…" I suggested, since Louisa was looking for the right word.

"Maybe that's a bit harsh, but he's not the brightest bulb, I'll give you that. He's just a bit simple, poor Joe. I'm afraid he'll be trying hard to avoid mentioning it at all, and making it obvious just by _not_ saying it."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Hardly anything Joe does makes any sense."

I couldn't argue with that.

_To be continued…_


	92. Chapter 92

Chapter 92

To say that I had been glad when we were finally on our way to London was a huge understatement.

I had felt neither safe nor comfortable until I was sitting dressed in one of my impeccable suits aboard the train to London.

.

London.

.

A place where you couldn't go camping. Where policemen had at least a modicum of brains, or at least where you didn't meet many so that you couldn't possibly judge them. A place with absolutely not one single beach to tempt Louisa to do such a stupid thing again. Even better, a place where no one could possibly know of this embarrassing night.

The morning had been next to unbearable for me.

James kept on and on about his camping experience. I don't know why not having a proper bed could be desirable, but obviously James had loved it. He kept begging to repeat it soon. I had just grunted in response.

While we were packing our things, Louisa also kept on about it. What a wonderful experience it has been for James. How nice it was that he was interested in nature. It seemed as if he had experienced the heights of happiness.

Louisa had quickly sensed that my enthusiasm didn't equal hers.

She had warned me that she wouldn't allow me to spoil it for James. It simply wasn't done, getting James all exited just to never allow him to go camping again.

"I will _never_ go camping. End of discussion." I declared firmly, and for once I wasn't prepared to give in. That was really unthinkable.

"No one says you should. Sending you camping would be as equally unfair as not sending James."

"Ah. Uhum." That was unexpected but I was glad to hear that.

"Besides, James was quite happy this time without any of us."

"You can't expect Al to take him all the time." I tried not to let Louisa's expectations run wild.

"Of course not, but what do you mean all the time. It's not something to be done every week. Maybe half a dozen times a year, at most. Maybe Al will take him again. Or..." Louisa turned around with a hopeful gleam in her eye. "What about boy scouts?"

"What?" I asked rather shocked, not liking the idea one bit. Hypothermia by sleeping in cold tents, suboptimal nutrition by eating half-cooked meat and burned bread from the campfire, ticks and mosquitoes and all sorts of pests by trampling through the woods...the list in my head of possible dangers grew longer and longer.

"Yeah, would solve a whole bag of problems." Louisa seemed quite taken with the idea.

"I don't see any problems with the way James Henry is growing up at the moment, without those tree huggers." I grunted.

"Oh, I'd say it'll do James a world of good. He can go camping without you having to worry about being summoned and under proper supervision. He'll learn to treat nature and his fellow citizens with respect. He'll find new friends about his age. He'd learn team work. Oh yes, there are lots of advantages. Or would you rather have him sit in front of the telly or the computer all day?" Louisa asked provocatively.

"You don't have to go back to the lifestyle of the Stone Age to avoid becoming a TV addict." I grunted.

Louisa stepped towards me and talked to me with undivided attention.

"Look, I think James would really love it. Nature, mates, doing things together – it's really his kind of thing. And who was always preaching that you should get enough exercise, especially children? Hm?"

She'd got me there, but I wasn't prepared to give in just yet. "Can't he go to a swimming class at the leisure centre? That'll do."

Louisa shook her head. "For an old man, maybe, but don't you think that'd be a tad boring. At least compared to roaming the woods and swimming in the sea?"

There was just one last straw I clutched onto, and I played my last card. "Isn't he too young for that? I can't see them taking responsibility for four-year olds."

"Hm. Maybe. I'll check. But then next year, perhaps."

.

This conversation was still in my head when we were on the train to London. It was one more bit of proof that my life would take a turn I would have never expected. It also brought home that very soon my city days would be over for good. Me, the Londoner, city slicker by heart, was on my last trip back to London as a place where I actually lived. Next time we'd be going to Cornwall we would be moving there for good.

Until now I had been quite successful in suppressing this fact, throwing myself into the project of organising everything, and simply looking at it as a task at hand that had to be finished. I did my best to forget about the life-changing impact it would have.

This weekend it became painfully clear that I would soon be part of a rural lifestyle I had always detested.

Life plays funny tricks when someone like me ends up having a family who loves the outdoors and everything that has no resemblance with civilisation whatsoever.

Even six months earlier I would have been in a foul mood thinking about this. This time I didn't quite have the bad vibes I always got thinking of Cornwall.

As if Louisa could read my thoughts, I heard her say to James exactly at this moment: "Jamie, next time we're going to Cornwall, it will be our home. Next time we don't have to go back to London anymore. Isn't that great?"

James squeaked with pleasure.

I looked across the aisle, where Louisa entertained James. I hadn't managed to book our seats around the little tables, as those seats were already taken. So I sat on one side of the aisle, and Louisa on the other. She suggested this arrangement to give me space to catch up on finishing the last publication I was writing for Imperial. I had my laptop in front of me, but I couldn't register at all what was on the screen.

I watched Louisa and the way she played with James, laughing. In a way, this was what I had missed, months ago in an American hotel room. Louisa's laughter. The twinkle in her eye. Even the way she teases me and drags me out of my comfort zone. Her carefree look on life, seemingly enjoying every minute. And I was allowed to watch her, lifting my mood.  
>If I really started all this to get the Louisa back I had fallen in love with, then I had to admit I had failed.<p>

_To be continued…_


	93. Chapter 93

Chapter 93

Louisa had regained her laughter, her carefreeness and was more adventurous again.

Still, she wasn't the Louisa of the old days, the one I had met in a sleepy Cornish village while being in exile.

Maybe it had been naive of me to think that I could get the old Louisa back simply by moving back to where I had met her. I had assessed the changes in Louisa simply as a sign of unhappiness. Maybe, I thought peeking at her at the other side of the aisle, I had to accept that she had changed. Maybe we have to learn to accept that we will never be living together as the same persons.

Maybe I had changed, too. And maybe that was what life was all about. Constant changes.

Maybe the secret of a marriage was not to freeze the moment when you had been happiest in a time capsule, but to influence each others changes for the better. To give it some direction.

The Louisa I could see now playing with our son was a completely different person than she had been even half a year before. During the last months she had developed a trust in me, a security and self-confidence she had never shown before. She stood up for me like she had never done in the old days. She showed an understanding and even some approval for my strange ways. She never had criticised me less than she did now.

Evaluating the immediate results of my bold move, my most optimistic hopes had been surpassed.

I had failed to get the old Louisa back, but I have failed in the best sense.

She was a better partner than I had ever hoped for. Did I love her more now? No, I don't think that's even possible. From the first moment on I felt so deeply and utterly in love with her that it hurt. Physically hurt. However, I felt more comfortable being with her. More accepted.

.

Louisa and James were trying to spot animals and imitated their calls. James pointed excitedly towards a heron, standing in a brook we were passing right now.

"What kind of noise does this bird make?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

.

I thought about changes and my natural aversion against them. For me, changes always bore the risk of things getting worse, but maybe I had to accept that they also held the possibility of something better.

I had to thank Louisa for this insight. Come to think of it, maybe that's what she had been trying to teach me from our first meeting on. To push and drag and move me forward, but I was like a rock, just standing and gawping and hoping the moment when we were amicable for a change wouldn't pass.

Maybe that's why too many of those moments had passed too quickly, mostly turning into something nasty.

Louisa sometimes tells me that I am her rock, and I always thought that was good. And sometimes it is good. Still, in times of change - when the heavy wind of change blows or the stream of life cascades down on you - the rock is in danger of being swept away or chipped off. The rock can't react or use the forces to give itself a new direction. It either stands tall or is shattered to pieces.

Maybe suggesting the move back to Cornwall was my first step away from being a rock. Not waiting for the flood to wash away everything I have, but to act before the wave hits me. Maybe that's more what we humans are all about - anticipating danger and avoiding it.

It seems in my private affairs I had always waited for external forces to batter me. This is the first time I acted because I feared what might come. I acted, although I dreaded the consequence of being stuck in Cornwall once more.

Recapturing the last couple of months, I had to acknowledge that I had won more in agreeing to move to Cornwall than I had lost by moving to London years ago.

.

I still found myself staring at my little family. James rubbing his eyes had been a sure sign of him getting tired. In short succession he had started to blink, then yawn and now he was almost nodding off.

Louisa took his shoes off and put his feet up on the seat she had occupied before.

She tousled his hair and bent down, maybe to give him a kiss, maybe to whisper something to him, maybe both.

Then she came over and sat down next to me.

"How's it going?" She cheerfully asked.

"What?" I had absolutely no clue what she was talking about.

"You're article. How's it going?"

Suddenly I remembered the laptop on my knees and the blinking cursor waiting for me to do my duty. I shut the lid of the computer.

"Not at all." I answered truthfully.

"Shame." Louisa smiled over to me. "I thought you could use the time on the train."

"Hm."

"However, I noticed you looking over at us quite often. Almost constantly, really." Louisa leaned back in her seat. "Are we too distracting?"

I pondered over her question and without planning it, my eyes wandered over Louisa's body. "You are." I noticed that my voice had been softer than intended. The tone of my voice didn't go unnoticed by Louisa.

She turned in her seat to face me, looking straight at me, and after a short pause she asked me in a teasing tone: "Are you flirting with me, Martin Ellingham?"

I felt my ears burn and stammered. "No, not at all."

Louisa put her hand on my thigh. "Please don't deny it, even if it isn't true. I like the thought."

"Well, maybe a little." I said tentatively.

Louisa rubbed my thigh with her thumb. "I like that. _A little_." She smiled. Then she leaned back in her seat again, her hand still on my leg. She sat there quietly for some time, staring into thin air.

"James went out like a light." She said.

"He's had more exercise and more oxygen intake than he's used to, so his metabolism…." I was cut short by Louisa interrupting me.

"It _was_ quite an eventful weekend for him. I guess he loved it."

"Hm."

There was this silence again, but it was not a hostile silence for a change.

"What have you been thinking? You seemed to be miles away." Louisa suddenly asked quietly.

"Uhm. Uh. Nothing in particular." I answered evasively.

Louisa turned her head slowly to look at me. "I don't buy that for a second, but I'll just let it pass. Okay?"

I nodded.

"I've been thinking too."

"You have?"

"Yeah. Maybe I can hide it better." She winked at me. "Yeah, but I have been thinking."

Louisa leaned back again, looking slightly upwards in her leaning position. "I couldn't help but remember a completely different train ride. One I took several years ago. One I took alone."

Louisa turned her head towards the other side of the aisle. "Well, maybe not completely alone. James was with me, but I didn't know that at that time."

I gulped. There was nothing good that could come from a conversation like that. Still, I feared if I'd stopped it, nothing good could come from that either.

"I was also on the way to London." Louisa continued. "You know, after we mucked it up."

I knew exactly what Louisa was referring to. "You mean after _I _had mucked it up."

Still staring upwards, Louisa tightened her grip on my leg. "No, Martin, we were in this together. For better and for worse and all that. At that point more like for worse."

"It wasn't your fault, it was mine." The long suppressed guilt finally had found a way to the surface.

"You know, back then I would have agreed with you." Louisa tuned to look at me. "If anyone would have predicted back then that we would be sitting here together someday, going in the same direction, I would have scratched their eyes out." Louisa sighed. "I didn't have such a high opinion of you back then."

"Perfectly understandable."

"Yeah, maybe. And you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you have a high opinion of me after I made off in that stupid fly-by-night operation?"

"Always." I answered immediately as I didn't even have to think about it.

Louisa looked down guiltily. "You shouldn't have. I was so very wrong." Then she turned her head to look at James. "Just imagine if James hadn't already been on his way. Who knows what would have become of us."

I gulped. I fostered this thought far too often and the outcome was always pretty bleak.

I fingered for her hand still resting on my thigh. "But he was." I said forcing my voice to be steady despite the turmoil inside of me. I squeezed her hand slightly.

"Yeah, fortunately he was." Louisa sighed. Then she turned her face back towards me. "It would have been the biggest mistake in my entire life, you know."

"Shhh. Stop thinking about it. We left all that behind." I assured her quietly.

"Yeah, I suppose we have. You know, I wouldn't know what to do without you. You are my rock."

"No. No rock no more."

_To be continued…_


	94. Chapter 94

Chapter 94

The next weeks passed shockingly quickly. Even worse, there wasn't even the slightest chance on any normal life. I hadn't realised the ties we had made over the years in London, or more precisely Louisa had made. They were just brought to my attention now as we had to cut them one by one.

Louisa went out on two nights, leaving me to babysit James. To be more exact, I gladly volunteered because the alternative would have been to accompany Louisa. To be honest, I didn't much fancy spending my evening with a bunch of teachers, nor with the good-doers that had invaded our wedding.

Obviously the staff of Louisa's school as well as the group supporting homeless teenagers found it necessary to organise a goodbye party. When Louisa told me, I had suggested they could throw both parties together, so that she had to go through this ordeal just once.

"I don't think so." Louisa had just laughed. "They are both keen on doing something for me."

"Then they shouldn't steal your time." I informed about the best way to show their appreciation.

"Maybe they are not seeing it as stealing time, and maybe I don't either."

I would never understand if Louisa was just unnecessarily polite in letting those people steal her time or if she really enjoyed this sort of thing.

"You'll survive one evening without me." She said, smiling at me. "After all, as soon as we're back home…" and I presumed she meant Cornwall, "you'll have me all to yourself." She came over to the armchair I was sitting in, the book I'd been reading when she came in still on the armrest. She ran her hand over my hair. "You can have your wicked ways with me every night, but I really have to go now. They made such an effort."

I grumbled something I didn't dare to say out loud and hoped Louisa hadn't caught what I'd been mumbling.

"If you don't want to stay at home alone, you're welcome to accompany me." She told me, smiling at me broadly.

I snapped my head around to look at her fully, completely aghast at her offer.

Louisa laughed out loud. "Yeah, I figured. So you take care of James, and I'll take care of the socialising. How does that sound?"

"Don't be too late." I told her, while getting up, to give her a peck on the cheek.

"I won't promise anything. Don't wait for me."

So I didn't. Both nights Louisa was still nowhere to be seen when I went to bed, although I had postponed my usual bedtime considerably. I also noticed the next morning that Louisa didn't let me anywhere near her before she had used the bathroom. A sure sign that she'd been drinking more than usual. Louisa had understood by now that it was physically painful for me to be close to her after such a night, mainly not because I disapprove of drinking, but because I find the smell and stale taste in her mouth unbearable. Louisa told me once that my senses were obviously more sensitive than normal. At least that would explain why so many people can stand alcohol and those who have consumed it, while I find it unbearable.

So while Louisa enjoyed what is usually known as '_a good time_', James and I had a nice evening at home.

My main focus during our last days in London was to leave my job in the best possible way, introducing my successor to the routine, give him an overview of the projects, the co-workers and the main problems with the smart-asses of the administration.

I tried my best to avoid any private conversation, as most felt it necessary to remind me how beautiful the Cornish coast is and that I would probably be on eternal holidays. If all of them were so keen on the Cornish lifestyle I wondered why there was such a shortage of prime professionals in those backwaters.

The last week before our departure, Robert invited me to a meeting. I groaned. Goody, another one. It seemed to me that about 80% of my working day was consumed by meetings at the moment. This one seemed to be a really important one, as the biggest conference room of Imperial College had been booked. Great. Exactly what I love, a room full of self-declared experts and I didn't have a clue what this meeting was all about.

I called Robert to give me a briefing about who would be attending and what my part in this meeting would be. Robert assured me that there was nothing to worry about, just the last resume of my time here and an outlook to things to come. Before I rang off, Robert warned me to come and not to look for any excuse to duck out of attending.

Not any wiser than before I gritted my teeth and acquiesced to the fact that I had to waste my morning sitting in that stuffy room instead of caring for my patients. Maybe I was a little bit too naïve in believing that the welfare of the patients should be our prime attention, not amusing the controllers.

Nurturing my foul mood I made my way to the conference room, noticing that very few colleagues were seen on the floor. Maybe they were all stuck in some useless meeting. Maybe Imperial should hire two sets of employees, I thought grimly, one set doing the job, while the other half dozed away in meetings.

To make sure that no one could do something sensible during the breaks of the meeting, the conference room was on a completely different floor. Begrudgingly I went into the lift to reach the right floor. On the next stop I was joined by a young nurse. I nodded silently, but she looked at me and grinned.

Feeling uneasy about here stupid gawping, I snapped: "What?!"

The nurse jumped a little, but didn't stop grinning. "You're on your way to…_the conference_." She said ominously.

"None of your business." Why did everyone have to meddle with my affairs?

At least she kept quiet until she left the lift two storeys before I had to get out.

The doors of the conference were shut. I looked at my watch, but I was still on time. Opening the doors, I stood nailed to the spot.

"What the heck?!"

_To be continued…_


	95. Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Before I could react to the spectacle before my eyes, I already felt a hand land heavily on my shoulder.

"Martin, sorry about that, but it's customary here to send valued and deserved members of our staff out with a bang, and that includes you." I heard Robert's voice.

"Don't you think I deserve better than this?" I nodded into the direction of a buffet presented on the side tables and a good deal of the staff gathered around chatting and sniggering and giggling. "Besides, don't they have anything better to do than waste their working hours stuffing themselves with unnecessary calories?"

Robert laughed. "Let me do the worrying about that. We all have plenty of over-time hours to account for this."

"Waste of time." I mumbled under my breath.

The arm around my shoulder tightened and Robert drew my ear closer to his mouth. He hissed into my ear. "I tricked you here because I knew that you wouldn't have come otherwise and I didn't want to have to order you here as your boss, but if you're thinking of running away – think again. After all, I _am_ still your boss." He squeezed my shoulder and his smile was belied by a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

I gulped. I didn't know this side of Robert, not with me anyway. I knew he could be strict if someone didn't do his job properly, but as long as everything was going well he gave you all the freedom you needed.

So I had to resign myself to the fact that I was stuck here. Still, I just had to wait for an occasion when everyone was too engrossed in _networking_ to notice me, in order to slip away.

My first plan was to position myself next to the door, nearest to the exit, failed immediately, as Robert took me by the arm to drag me forwards.

Much to my horror, I noticed that near the front was a little podium with a microphone. If anyone would make a speech, I was sure I wouldn't be able to contain my temper any longer. This was such a waste of time, not only mine but everyone's in this room.

To my horror, Robert headed towards the podium after leaving me in the front row, warning me not to dare to disappear.

He asked for attention and the room went quiet. _Oh Gawd!_

Robert started to blurt out the usual claptrap of being sorry to see such a valuable member of staff go, listing my so-called achievements, which could be described as simply doing my job.

Standing there, feeling all eyes upon me, I just had the urge to run away, but right now it wasn't possible. The only way not to lose my temper over this tattle was to tune out. Physically still present, my mind wandered to tasks ahead. A quick evaluation of the checklist of my tasks at Imperial revealed that everything was pretty much settled here. There were a couple of tips I should give my successor and it would be interesting to see how he would do his round next morning, when I had planned on taking part only as an observer, but otherwise I was as ready as I could be.

So my mind wandered further to our move down to Cornwall. The cottage was far from being converted, but Al had assured me that he had his best holiday let ready for us to move in to until our house would be finished. We had decided against storing the furniture, but to keep the London flat until our house was finished, so on our move to Cornwall we would just take the essentials we'd need in the fully furnished holiday let. So for the time being, we would just pack my car and leave the rest behind. Over the weeks and months leading to this moment, we had brought bits and pieces of our possessions down to Cornwall, so that the balance of our household slowly tended towards the South-West corner of our country. I tried to make mental notes of those things to pack, when the urging voice of my secretary woke me from my reveries.

"Mr. Ellingham!" I heard her insistent voice.

"Huh?" I looked down and wondered for how long she was already standing there.

"The flowers." She nodded towards the front.

"The _what?"_ I still wasn't completely back in the present, but suddenly I realised that everyone was clapping. Looking towards Robert, he nodded frantically towards me. Seemingly coming out of nowhere, he held a bouquet and an envelope in his hand.

My secretary told me to go forwards and I stumbled towards Robert still not quite sure what was expected of me.

Robert thrust the bunch of flowers into my hand and said something about a voucher for books while handing me the envelope. He shook hands with me and while doing so, he brought his mouth close to my ear.

"Don't overdo it, mate." He warned me. "We both have to get through this with as little damage as possible. And now say '_Thank You'_ and nicely."

I did as I was told. I said "Thank you", took the blasted flowers and the envelope from Robert and went back to my place. I thrust the stuff into my secretary's hand.

"Don't glower at _me_." She told me. "I told Robert you wouldn't like it, that you wouldn't like it one bit, but he insisted."

"So you knew?!" I hissed at her. "You knew and you didn't warn me?"

"Next week, there are about 250 miles between you and Mr. Dashwood, but I still have to work here." She informed me and I couldn't deny that logic.

Much to my horror, Robert introduced a board member to the microphone. I groaned.

"Just a couple more to go, then you're done. Just hold out." My secretary whispered. While it was meant as an encouragement, it definitely had the opposite effect on me.

"A _couple_?!" I could only just restrain myself enough so as to keep my voice low. "How many?"

"Uhm, Mr Dashwood would know." She replied sheepishly and somehow I had an inkling she wasn't being completely honest with me.

The next cockalorum started to praise my so-called achievements which were simply a part of my job description. I wondered why it was worth mentioning that I had done my duty. What were the others doing?

While continuing my musings about the tasks at hand at home, this time I made sure that I listened enough to notice any mentioning of my name.

Sure enough, after a considerable time my name was called again to receive more rubbish as a so-called parting present.

With Robert glowering at me I trotted forward, held out my hand to receive more things I didn't need. This time, I decided to do without the '_thank you'_, but a simple _'hm'_ should suffice. I had just taken my place in the front row again when the head of teaching took his place at the podium. My eyes widened with terror. I gesticulated towards Robert and rushed forwards again, not caring about my better judgement.

"Oi. How many people think they've got to thank me for my undoubtedly _'valuable achievements'_? How many more to come, ey?"

Robert rolled his eyes. "You were a central figure in our hospital, so you leave many holes in our network."

"Skip that sugar-coated rubbish. Just how many more?"

"Two after this one." He admitted

"Bloody hell." I heard some people giggling and turned around angrily, which made them stop.

I paused and the wannabe speechmaker in front was hesitant if he should start or not. He just chose the same moment to begin his sermon when I burst out. "Has any of you any more of these '_little appreciations'_?" I sneered.

The man at the podium blushed a bit. "Uh, yes."

I turned around. "Who else?"

Two more people raised their hands, obviously the rest of the chosen few to sing my praise.

I snapped my fingers towards my secretary and signalled her to come. I waved my hand along the line of the Three Magi carrying gifts. "Collect them." I ordered.

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled apologetically towards Robert. He nodded and so my secretary started to collect more flowers, books and envelopes.

By now I had taken my place in front again. Shortly afterwards I was joined by my secretary, laden with loads of unnecessary stuff.

"Where shall I put it?" She asked me in a whisper, as the next speaker had just started with a feeble joke about the unceremonious collection of all the presents.

"Just get rid of it." I hissed.

"You mean I should put it in your office?"

"No." I urged her, obviously a bit louder as people started to react, so I lowered my voice. "No. Just..." I waved my hand, "...get rid of it."

_To be continued…_


	96. Chapter 96

Chapter 96

The whole farce stole about 90 minutes of valuable time for quite an amount of well paid people. It was absolutely ridiculous.

I stood around like a fool, now able to tune out completely, as there was no need for me anymore to be dragged into the limelight. I left that for those enjoying this kind of exhibition.

Finally the last idiot had finished uttering the usual nonsense and Robert joined me.

"My, Martin, you're really determined to make this a memorable experience." He sighed.

"I'm not interested in this at all." I growled.

"Gosh, I bet you couldn't be in a worse mood if you were being tortured with red hot pokers, and I don't mean the flowers."

I nodded slowly. "It is similar." I admitted.

His hand landed hard on my shoulder. "Why can't you enjoy yourself for once? Hm? You made yourself a name. You worked hard to earn the respect of your colleagues - and believe me, it was tough for all of us. So why not celebrate at the end of this long and hard journey together?"

I just harrumphed hearing this nonsense. While talking to me, Robert had shuffled me towards the buffet, when he took a plate for himself and filled it with one of the most disgusting inventions of mankind – finger food. He took a second plate and offered it to me.

I pushed it away in horror. "Ugh! No!"

"Don't you want to eat something? It's really good. I use the party service regularly, for meetings as well as for our tennis club."

"You are aware why it's called finger food?" I asked him. "Because you can never be sure who had his unwashed fingers in it before."

"Martin." My chief said. "You are absolutely impossible. Does your wife know? "

"Yes."

"Well, none of my business anymore." Robert finally resigned.

"Damn right." I confirmed and he peaked up at me with a smug smile on his face, pausing just shortly before continuing filling his plate with who-knows-what.

As my boss, Robert had the right to decide how I had to spend my working hours, but he couldn't order what I had to eat. That was definitely not part of my contract.

So I declined firmly any of this rubbish Robert offered, unimpressed by his sour expression.

Finally, I was able to escape to the sanctuary of my office. Usually I had my secretary as my watchdog, but she was nowhere to be seen. Just as well. It wasn't very likely that I would be disturbed in the near future, as many of the staff were still eating and chatting.

Entering my office I feared the worst, but there was no hint of all the rubbish collected to celebrate my departure. I sighed relieved.

I prepared the round for the next morning, made some notes for things to check with Plymouth before I started there and then it was half past five already.

I made my short trip home, realising that soon I had to commute for many miles more each day.

Arriving home I didn't trust my eyes.

Louisa was happily humming some ridiculous song along with the radio, while she was sorting out flowers and parcels and envelopes.

"What the hell?!" I shouted.

"And a good evening to you, too." Louisa greeted my cheerily. Only now I noticed James sitting in the corner of the room, giggling. "And I would appreciate it very much if you could watch your tongue in front of our son. You're not the best example, to be honest."

"Good evening, James." I nodded automatically towards him.

"Hullo, Dad! A nice lady came…said she works with you." He quipped.

"What?" I turned towards Louisa.

"You never told me what a nice secretary you have."

"What the hell…" I started, but Louisa tilted her head and looked at me accusingly. I stole a glance at James, who was beaming up at us. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control my temper to be able to watch my language. "What did she want? She doesn't have the habit of coming here uninvited, does she?"

"No, it's the first time I have met her. She's really nice. Very friendly. I can't imagine how she can put up with you." Louisa teased, but tiptoed to give me a peck on the cheek.

"She's got a nerve." I grumbled.

"Actually, she didn't come around uninvited. She called beforehand."

"Called?"

"Yeah, you know – that's what phones are for." Louisa grinned at me, but then concentrated again on the task at hand.

"I know what phones are for." I snapped. "I just don't know why my secretary, or anybody's secretary for that matter, finds it necessary to call the chief's wife."

Louisa looked up at me. "I heard about your little gathering."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh goody. That was a waste of time."

"I also heard about your…lets put it like this – '_lack of appreciation'_ – of the presents you got."

"I told her to get rid of them, yes, but as I see she didn't obey my orders."

Louisa's head snapped up and now she definitely glared at me, on the verge of losing her temper. I knew that look and I also knew that only James's presence prevented me from serious trouble.

"I'd be glad if I could say that I couldn't believe my ears when she told me." Louisa hissed at me menacingly. "But it sounded too much like you." Louisa squinted her eyes. "Thankfully, the social competence of your secretary is better than yours. She thought that she'd better check with me first if I would also prefer the presents to be discarded."

I sighed and leaned back onto the wall, letting my eyes wander over all the rubbish I had hoped never to see again.

"Great." I sighed.

"Actually, I thought your colleagues have been quite thoughtful. None of the usual bottles of wine." Louisa informed me.

"I don't drink." I uttered wearily.

"I know. And I think it's quite thoughtful that they considered it."

"It would have been thoughtful to consider that I don't like gatherings and presents at all."

"Silly. Everyone gets a send-off, and you're included. The book vouchers can come handy. If you don't want to use them, we can always buy some nice things for James."

"If I want to buy a book, I can afford to do so. I'm not dependant on handouts."

Louisa gave me a warning look.

"Righto." I sighed. "Go and buy whatever you want. And what do you want to do with all the flowers? Open up a flower shop?"

"Of course not."

"You are aware that we're heading westwards in three days? We can't take the flowers with us."

"Why not?" Louisa asked innocently.

"Don't tell me you want to carry all this…." I waved along the line of dead plants. "It'll clutter up the car and when we arrive in Cornwall, they're just ripe for the compost!" I declared.

"I know that. I'm no idiot." Louisa said quietly. "Of course I won't take them to Cornwall. If you don't mind I'll ask a colleague of mine if she wants them. She's going to get married the day after tomorrow. Most flowers should still be alright by then."

"Whatever." I muttered, waving my hand. I would agree to everything that would rid me of this rubbish.

"Agreed, and I suppose you can't object taking the books and vouchers? No health and safety issues I can see." Louisa seemed a bit more relaxed again.

"Go ahead. You'll do it anyway."

"Great observation." Louisa grinned again. "That's my bright boy." She teased me.

I left her to it and started to prepare a light meal for the evening.

_To be continued…_


	97. Chapter 97

Chapter 97

Eating was a quiet affair, and afterwards I put our son to bed and read him a story Louisa had chosen. Finally, James had dozed off.

I went back to the lounge. Louisa was curled up on the sofa watching a documentary about small animals*. Generally I found documentaries more bearable. If the telly had to be on at all, documentaries were practically the only programs I could tolerate. Still, I found the habit to voice the animal's emotions irritating.

As soon as I entered the room, Louisa leaned forward to get the remote control.

"I can switch it off, if you've got work to do." Louisa smiled up at me.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing much to do anymore. I'm glad when I find enough to do during the day. It'll change soon, but at the moment it's unusually quiet."

"I thought you still had an email to write or something." Louisa told me while switching off the telly. "You can get your laptop here and join me." She patted the sofa next to her.

"No, really. I'm all done." I replied, thankful for the quietude and quite willing to accept the offer to join my wife on the couch.

Before I could sit down, she nodded vaguely in the direction of my laptop. "I think you'd better get it. I doubt you have finished for today."

I looked down at her, lying lazily on the sofa, one of her shoulders partly exposed as her top had slid down slightly. I had no clue what she was talking about.

"Really, I've finished for today." I was about to sit down, when her question hit me.

"Did you write a thank you and good-bye email to your colleagues then?"

I was frozen in action, as her question hit me like a fist in my stomach. "What?"

"Did you thank your colleagues for the kind send-off and the nice presents?" Louisa had sat up by now, looking at me openly and firmly.

I plonked myself on the sofa next to her.

"No, I don't intend to. It was _their_ fun, not mine."

There was a moment of silence, and I stared in front of me, frustrated that Louisa had to ruin the evening.

After a short pause, I could feel her hand finger for mine. She started playing with my fingers. Slowly she took her hand in mine, caressing the back of my hand by drawing slow circles with her thumb.

"Look, Martin." Louisa started after a long pause. "I really think you should."

I turned brusquely towards her, looking fully at her, prepared to give her my opinion on this subject, but before I could explode she continued in a soft voice. "I know you take honesty quite seriously, and I like that, I like that a lot." Louisa started rubbing my shoulder with her free hand, while the other one was still drawing lazy circles on my hand. "Actually, the main reason why I accepted your first marriage proposal was that I had never met any man before with such high moral and ethical standards, who actually lived according to them. I had known a few who were preaching high standards, but threw them out of the window as soon as it suited them. You never compromise on you principles, for nothing and no one, and I admire that, I really do."

"But…" I said testily, as I hardly ever experienced praise except as a build up for some shattering criticism.

"No real but, Martin. It's just that I've got the feeling you regard politeness as dishonesty, and I don't think that's true."

"So what would you call it?" I noticed an edge in my voice, and so did Louisa.

"Don't be mad at me." She had sneaked her hand underneath my coat and rubbed my back. "I just want you to think about it, right? The way I see it, politeness makes sure that everyone is treated at least with a minimum standard of humanity."

I raised an eyebrow, as I couldn't claim that it had worked with me, considering the vile interactions with other people I had over time.

"No, really. Without politeness, we would treat the people we like well, but nothing would stop us from treating the ones we can't stand rottenly."

"Most do."

"_Some_ do, I give you that, but just because some aren't polite doesn't mean the whole concept is rubbish."

"If it doesn't work, then it is rubbish."

"A _concept_ never works unless we make it work, right? I mean, your moral standards don't just work because the standards are so great, but because you are following them to a tee. In strictly applying those standards, no matter the circumstances, you make them work. The same applies for politeness."

"Rubbish." I growled, as I had the sneaky suspicion that her reasoning was in danger of convincing me.

"I don't think you really believe that, as you support me in bringing James up according to these standards."

I looked at her quietly. "You teach him to say '_thank you'_, and '_please'_ and always greet him in the mornings with a rather formal '_Good Morning_'."

"Anything wrong with that?"

"No, the contrary. I think it's great he has an example in you of how to treat others politely. Within these walls, you're really doing a good job in teaching James. It's just outside of these walls, that you are not such a good example. What do you think James will make of it? Can he still believe in your example when he realises that you're only doing it at home? Wouldn't it be more convincing for him if he realised you treat all people politely?"

I fell silent, as there was not much that I could say. Louisa had detected my soft spot – James. I would do almost anything for him. I tried to convince myself that when I could move to Cornwall indefinitely for Louisa and James, I should be able to write one blasted email, even when I didn't see any sense in doing so.

Wearily I stood up.

"Right. I'll get the laptop. Anything you wish." I sighed.

"You don't have to do it for me. Only when you can back it up. Please don't do it just to please me."

Now I didn't understand anything anymore. First she's working me up with all her seductive powers which she certainly possessed, I had to admit ashamedly, and as soon as she had succeeded, she opened the door wide for me to back out.

"What? I don't understand _what _you want from me. Shall I write this blasted email or not?"

"What I want? I want you to think about if there is a justification for a thank you note. I don't want you to sit down and do as you are told. It has to be your decision, otherwise it won't be good at all."

"I can tell you – there is no justification, none that I can see. I can buy books if I need any. I don't need flowers either, and I don't need these hypocrites to tell me how much they valued my work when they tried to hinder me whenever they could."

Louisa's smiled looked a bit strained, but much to my surprise, she didn't explode. She went quiet for some time, then she breathed in deeply and slowly.

"Right. I hoped you could see my point, because I think they didn't _have_ to give you a friendly send-off, and maybe at least some of your colleagues really meant it." Louisa brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and I waited for her great outburst to start. "Well, enough of that."

Much to my surprise, Louisa patted the sofa next to her. "Would you prefer a quiet evening, or shall I turn the telly on?"

"Uhm…what?"

Louisa leaned forward and fingered for my hand. She got hold of a couple of my fingers and tugged at them, signalling me to sit down again.

Very puzzled, I took my seat next to her, not quite knowing what to make of her holding my hand although I hadn't followed her wish. I sat next to her quite awkwardly, and against my better judgement I felt guilty for being rewarded for nothing at all, as if I had snatched the prize for a competition I hadn't taken part in.

"Or shall we have an early night?" Louisa asked.

"I…don't understand?" I stammered.

"You don't understand what an _early night_ means?" Louisa teased with a mischievous grin.

I nodded. "Yeah, I do, but not why you're offering. I didn't do what you asked me to."

"Martin, it's _your_ job, and it's not my business to interfere with it. I can't deny that I would have preferred that you'd seen my point and could thank your colleagues, thank them honestly. I tried. I tried to convince you, but if you won't do it, I don't have the right to punish you or force you. I'm a bit disappointed, that's all."

"Erm…." Actually, I agreed with everything Louisa had said just now wholeheartedly. Still, it was more difficult for me to deal with her understanding than it would have been to deal with one of her emotional outbursts. She made me feel guilty for no good reason at all.

Suddenly I realised why I felt so out of place. I had done something to disappoint someone but didn't have to face any resistance. I didn't have to fight or argue or justify myself, but my opposite view was respected, even when it wasn't understood.

"Let's have an early night, hm?" Louisa nudged my shoulder with her chin, still holding my hand.

As I didn't react, she got up and tugged at my hand. Still a bit in a daze, I followed.

She only let my hand go to disappear into our en-suite. I changed into my nightwear and used the facilities after my wife. When I returned to our bedroom, Louisa was lying in bed reading one of her nonsensical novels. I couldn't deny feeling a bit disappointed, as I had read her cues for the evening ahead differently.

Anyway, I joined my wife in bed and automatically reached for the literature on my nightstand.

Much to my surprise I didn't find the journal I had left there the previous night, but the newest published book on the subject of endocrinology.

"What's this?" I asked puzzled.

"Oh, that was among the gifts you received. I checked on the internet, and it is very well received. I thought you might be interested in it." My wife declared cheerily.

"Gawd." I groaned, but flipping through the pages, I soon found myself engrossed in reading one of my unwanted presents.

_To be continued…_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

* _The documentary I was thinking of is "Hidden Kingdoms", produced by the BBC. I found the camera work pretty impressive._


	98. Chapter 98

Chapter 98

I had to admit that the book was quite interesting and presented some original new theories. Like all new theories they still had to be tested more thoroughly to be confirmed, but the author didn't claim anything else. I was completely immersed in the subject of endocrinology, when I suddenly noticed a warm hand sneaking up my shoulder.

"Intersting?"

"Hm." I grunted, trying to concentrate as I had reached an interesting point of the discussion.

"Is that a good _Hm_ or a bad _Hm_?" My wife kept asking.

"Good."

"Oh, that's good." She progressed in stroking my arm. "So you've learned quite a bit about hormones now?" Louisa continued.

"Yep." I informed her, still trying not to lose any aspects of the author's line of argument.

"So if you've been a good student, maybe we can put some of your new insights into practise?" Louisa kissed my shoulder gently.

"You wouldn't. He's describing a really nasty disease."

"You're right." Louisa purred while she nudged closer. "No need to practise that. I thought there might be some other aspects of hormones covered in this book. More interesting ones."

"Just because it's nasty, that doesn't mean it's not interesting." I mumbled, while I slowly accepted that I probably wouldn't be able to finish the chapter.

"Interesting for you perhaps. I was hoping for something that could interest us both." Louisa's hand kept running up and down my arm. "Isn't there a chapter about sex hormones, or such?"

I shut my book energetically. "No, there is no chapter about that, but I think I can dig up some knowledge about it if I try. It should be sufficient for some easy practical exercises." I reached over to put the book away.

"I bet you've forgotten more about it, than others ever knew." Louisa purred and we started a little experiment on our own about the effects of gonadal steroids on human behaviour.

The next morning I woke up really early. There was no good reason for it, as far as I could tell. It was just that I felt there was some unfinished business I had to attend to without being able to put my finger on it. It kept nagging me.

I crossed my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling. Through the curtains a small shimmer of light indicated the beginning of a new day.

I went through all tasks at work, at home here in London and in Cornwall to track down any unfinished business. I could think of none.

Louisa moved next to me, snuggled closer to me, and mumbled something unintelligible, before she started to snore gently.

I smiled.

Life has been good to me. The last few months, life has really been good to me. I couldn't ask for more right now. It had taken some time for life to be on the giving side. I never really had much luck with that in the past. Still, life has caught up and I was blessed with a loving wife, a gorgeous son and a fulfilling job. It was more than anyone could ask for and certainly more than I had ever had before or even dreamed of having.

It was almost a shock to realise how content I was, how content I could be.

Was there anything right now that could be better?

I thought about it, feeling Louisa's warmth.

There was one thing, one thing I had put aside because it didn't seem to matter anymore. There was our unresolved controversy from the previous evening.

Louisa moved in her sleep, turning onto her back. I took this opportunity to slip quietly out of bed, trying not to disturb her sleep.

I put my robe on and tiptoed out of our bedroom, past James' room, straight to the kitchen, where I prepared myself a cup of coffee. I had given up on sleep for tonight, so I might as well use some caffeine to help me start the day. Besides, brewing the coffee gave me time to think.

The steaming hot cup in my hand I leaned against the worktop and followed my thoughts. I drank the coffee slowly and the hot gulps had a calming effect.

After I'd finally finished my coffee, I went into my study and switched the laptop on. While the computed booted, I went onto the little balcony to breathe in the fresh morning air. I had to admit, that _fresh_ was only the temperature, not the quality. I wouldn't miss the polluted air when we moved down to Cornwall, that's for sure.

I went back to my desk and checked my emails. Nothing since yesterday.

My fingers hovered over the button to start a new email. I clicked on it and the blank canvas of a new email appeared before me.

I sighed. What should I do with it? What should I write? There was nothing really to say. Writing emails usually isn't a big deal. You describe the problem and ask the question, or you describe the task and tell someone to do it.

But I had no question and no task. How do you write an email without content?

My hand was on the lid of the laptop, and I was considering just closing this stupid thing and forget about the email. No one would know.

No one but me.

Still, I would know that I chickened out of writing an email that was important to my wife, my wife who was important to me.

_To be continued…_


	99. Chapter 99

Chapter 99

I sighed and guided my hand back to the keyboard. I thought about Louisa's suggestion from last night. '_A thank you and good-bye email_' she had called it.

I began typing. I had finished the words and was thinking about the distribution list.

"You're up early." I heard Louisa's voice.

I hadn't heard her coming and I didn't expect anyone to be up that early in the morning, so hearing a voice startled me at first.

"Sorry, I didn't want to make you jump." Louisa said sleepily, and now I heard her tender footsteps approaching me. "What are you doing this early in the morning?"

"Nothing."

"Or aren't I to know?"

"No, no problem, nothing important."

I felt Louisa coming closer. She put her hand on my shoulder and bent down to give me a peck on the cheek.

"So what are you doing?" I felt her warm breath against my skin.

"Uhm…the email we've been talking about, you know, last night? I decided to write it." I tried to sound as casual as I could.

I felt Louisa's arms slowly wandering down my chest from behind and her head touching mine. "Thanks." She whispered.

"Uhm…yes."

Obviously while standing behind me, she couldn't have helped but read my email.

"You're not sending it like this, are you?"

I turned my head. "Why?"

Louisa chuckled. "You must have received emails of parting colleagues at some point in your career."

"I never read them."

"And you've never written one before, either?"

"I never had a send-off, except from the school of course, but in those days we didn't have any emails. We had a long, awkward gathering in the assembly hall. A horrid ordeal."

"And after medical school?" Louisa inquired further.

"I stayed at the hospital as assistant doctor."

"I see. And when you left hospital?"

I sighed. "I'd just been puking onto the floor of the operating theatre when I was supposed to be doing a standard procedure. Neither I nor the hospital felt like giving me a big send-off. I'd been on sick leave for quite some time, before I was officially removed from the staff."

I paused. "I suppose there must have been an email from the medical director informing the rest of staff of me leaving the hospital, but thank God, I've got no idea what it said."

"Sorry." Louisa mumbled into my hair, her arms loosely around my chest. Then she gave my chest a light slap and continued more cheerily. "Still, you can't send it like this. You mind if I assist you?"

Louisa had shifted from behind me to my side and sat on the armrest of my chair.

"'_Thank you and good-bye_.'" She read in a monotonous voice. "That's a bit short. I bet we can do better than that."

"You said yesterday that you'd wish me to…" I couldn't finish my sentence as her lips on mine stopped me.

"I know, but I didn't mean it like that. Is it OK when I help?"

"I'm open to suggestions." I didn't want to promise Louisa that I would follow her suggestions to a tee, but given that I was stuck with this blasted thing, her input wouldn't hurt.

"First we need to address the recipients."

"When they get it, they know that it was meant for them."

"Sure, but it's nicer. How about '_Dear colleagues'_?"

I grunted.

"Or maybe '_Dear all_'? It's even shorter."

"Right." I typed '_Dear all'_. "What's next?"

"Well, usually I'd say you look back at your time at Imperial. Common is something like '_I thank you for your good co-operation._'" Louisa kept dictating.

I looked up alarmed. "No way!" I declared.

"Why? It's quite usual to add this." My wife's arm sneaked around my shoulder.

"That would suggest that I generally found the co-operation adequate."

"And you didn't?" Louisa asked although she should know better.

"You know darn well I didn't, or did you conveniently forget my complaints about the many inadequacies I had to endure?"

"I see your point." Louisa bit her lip. "Still."

"No." I said firmly.

"Well, maybe…how about '_I was grateful for good co-operation_'? Everybody would be, right then?"

"Of course everybody would, that's why it doesn't make any sense to say it. It's self-evident."

"Still, you could agree with that?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"So?" Louisa looked at me encouragingly.

"OK." I sighed and typed as I was told.

"Good." Louisa sighed contented. "Now a short thank-you for the send-off. How about '_Thank you for your kind parting words and gifts. It was well appreciated.'_"

"By whom?" I grumbled.

"By me, for a start. And you don't say that it was you who appreciated the presents. Just that they were appreciated by someone. That someone happens to be me." Louisa flashed me a smile." I could hardly argue with that and decided that the text was harmless enough. Besides, the less I discussed every word with Louisa, the less time I wasted on this nonsense.

"Now some nice parting words from your side." Louisa bit her lip. "How about: '_I wish the hospital and all of you the very best for the future._'"

"Why should I? As soon as I'm gone, it's none of my business anymore."

"They whished you well. It's just fair to do the same."

"They couldn't care less about my future. So it's absolute bollocks to respond to these slimy lies with equally untrue wishes."

"So you'd rather send them packing, the whole lot?"

"Of course not." I hissed through clenched teeth. "I just couldn't care less what they do. Besides, they hardly need my blessings for the future. Imperial is among the top ten rated Universities world wide. Even _if_ I wanted to curse them, that wouldn't change a thing."

"Really? Top ten world wide? Phew. You never told me." Louisa leaned over and pecked my cheek.

"What's that for?"

"Makes me quite proud that one of the leading Universities of the world tracked my hubby down to work for them."

"Rubbish." I growled, feeling uncomfortable about the undeserved praise.

"You're blushing." Louisa giggled, then she slapped my shoulder. "We've got an email to finish."

"Just tell me what I should write. We'll be sitting here until the cows come home otherwise."

"Right. What did I say? Ah, yes. "_I wish the hospital and all of you the very best for the future"_."

Like a good secretary I typed as ordered.

Louisa leaned over my shoulder. She read aloud.

"'_Dear all,_

_I was grateful for good co-operation_

_Thank you for your kind parting words and gifts. It was well appreciated._

_I wish the hospital and all of you the very best for the future."_

"Doesn't sound too bad." My wife declared, starting to caress the area behind my ear. "Now you just need to add greetings and the distribution list and that'll do."

The ministrations of my wife became more intense.

"What are you doing?" I turned to her.

"I just thought a little encouragement…" She smiled at me.

"It's not encouraging. At least not to write that blasted email! It's distracting." I declared, trying to keep my thoughts at the tasks at hand.

Louisa laughed lightly. "I won't be responsible for this email not being send. I'll prepare breakfast." She declared and pushed herself off my shoulder.

Left alone with my task, I read the email again. Well, not anything I would have written, but nothing completely untrue either. I sighed. Signed "Regards, Mr. Ellingham" and scanned the address book for the addressees.

_To be continued…_


	100. Chapter 100

_I wish everyone MERRY CHRISTMAS._

_Thanks for reading!_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 100

Life at hospital was unbearable. Staff that always had been blissfully unaware of my existence suddenly found it necessary to wish me a good morning. People nodded towards me as if their neck muscles weren't strong enough to support the weight of their heads, which were bobbing up and down, accompanied by a silly grin.

Even my office failed to be an oasis of professional objectivity, as my usually efficient secretary changed her habits. Usually she would come in, put the post in my in-box, and leave without uttering a word, unless she had to inform me about unexpected changes in my schedule.

This morning she brought in the mail as usual, but then lingered around my desk indecisively.

"Yes?" I asked while scanning the notes of the patients I had to see on my last round at Imperial.

"Mr Ellingham?" My secretary started haltingly.

"Yes."

"Uhm, I just want to say…" My secretary wasn't in the habit of stammering, otherwise we wouldn't have worked together for so long, so I looked up to see what the matter was. Her complexion seemed normal. Neither could I detect any other symptoms of her feeling unwell.

"Something the matter?" I asked impatiently.

"No, I was just relieved. I was really worried yesterday that I might have overstepped my boundaries."

"You did." I informed her.

"Oh, yes, you're probably right. It was just that I thought it would be such a shame to let all those presents go to waste. So I was quite relieved when I got the email this morning, knowing that you'd appreciated it after all."

"I didn't."

"But it said…" My secretary looked at me with big eyes.

"My wife did. I didn't."

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

I harrumphed. My natural instinct told me this was the perfect moment to tell her off for her unacceptable behaviour. However, after sending that blasted email, it would look odd writing one thing and saying another. I realised how binding that email was.

"Fine." I mumbled. "It's fine." I breathed in deeply. "My wife is glad that you brought the presents to our place."

"She's really nice. You just don't know how lucky you are." She informed me.

"I do." Why did people find it necessary to tell me that I didn't know what a nice person my wife was? Wasn't it clear that I knew? Why else would I have married her? I shook my head. "Anything else?"

"No, Mr. Ellingham."

"Good."

Thankfully I was left in peace for the preparation of my round, until I met my successor, Mr. Dimble, on the ward. Today I was supposed to accompany him and let him do the work. After all, from now on he was responsible for the welfare of these patients.

At least my younger colleague did realise that hospital work was all about scientifically based treatment and not talking rubbish and smiling all the time. He looked at the charts carefully and didn't let himself be distracted by patients constantly rattling on about how afraid they were and how worried their families were or other nonsense. He tuned out the useless prattle effectively, concentrating on the facts written on the charts.

Even after decades working in the medical sector, I was baffled by the stupidity of most patients. They always seemed to be more afraid of the cure than the disease.

Without a second thought they wolfed down calorie-laden food bound to give them diabetes and high cholesterol and hypertension. Without a shred of regret they lit up cigarette after cigarette, inhaling mutagenic substances and clotting their lungs with nicotine. Sometimes they chose a quicker method of ruining their health and gladly took the risk of harming others too, in using motorised vehicles in a completely irresponsible manner.

When they had successfully ruined their body, they ended up here, leaving us to clear up the mess.

That's when the worrying and whining began. Suddenly they discovered their concern for their lives. Now they were afraid of well-trained people making carefully planned incisions according to state of the art knowledge to undo the damage they had done with their irresponsible, stupid behaviour.

We proceeded room after room and although Mr. Dimble's method was slightly different to mine and given that he was lacking several years of experience compared to me, my successor did reasonably well. Not to jeopardise the trust of the patients in him, I kept my comments to myself and just made some notes for the review afterwards in my office.

We were in the second last room, and the usual procedure was going on. My younger colleague was studying the charts while the patient kept talking about unnecessary topics. Ignoring the blabber as usual, Mr. Dimble kept studying the facts, when I suddenly noticed a piece of information in all that tattle. I looked over to my successor, but he was still studying the data, obviously unaware that in the flood of nonsense a grain of information was buried.

Having completed his studies, Mr. Dimble gave his opinion on the further proceeding. I was alarmed. Obviously he hadn't noticed the patient's condition that he had casually dropped in his flood of words. I was about to intervene immediately, but then realised that it wouldn't do any good in chastising another doctor in front of a patient. I signalled my successor to come outside. He looked at me, then back at the charts, then back at me. Obviously he was trying to figure out where he might have made a mistake. I glared at him, trying to urge him wordlessly to get out of the room to talk.

"Just a moment," he told our patient, "I'll be back in a second."

Outside the door, my young colleague looked at me. "Mr. Ellingham?"

"Did you notice something?" I asked him.

"I studied the chart carefully and there seems to be a good recovery after your operation. No complications were indicated according to his vitals."

"The chart aside, did you notice anything?"

"The patient looked as could be expected in his state."

"Anything else?"

"No."

Mr. Dimble's composure hadn't changed at all. He showed no sign of nervousness or concern, which in a way was good, as you had to keep your nerve in this job. However, you had to stay alert in this position not to take anything for granted. Whatever we might achieve, it had to be earned again day after day.

"So you are absolutely happy with your suggested line of action?" I asked him directly.

"Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it."

"How good is your hearing?" I asked him to give him a hint where he had failed.

"No complaints."

"Really? Did you notice what the patient said? He was talking loud and clear."

The young doctor rolled his eyes. "During my first year as an assistant doctor my tutor told me never to listen to patients rattling on. It just distracts your focus from the facts. The concerns of his family or his own fears aren't a good guidance for any surgeon. So as soon as I realise someone is talking nonsense, I tune out to assess the situation effectively."

"Agreed." I nodded. "Still, sometimes there's valuable information buried in all this clap-trap, and we have to stay alert enough to notice. Didn't you realise that he said something about feeling his arm didn't belong to him, that it was like a dead weight at times?"

"No. Not a very scientific observation."

"No, but maybe we should try to find out where this feeling comes from. Maybe he was describing numbness in his arm? Maybe a nerve was damaged? We have to have an eye on that."

"Yes, of course." The young doctor nodded shortly.

"Next time, you've got to listen for yourself. Try to stay tuned enough just in case a patient utters something useful for a change."

"Understood." Mr. Dimble nodded shortly. Then he signalled for us to go back in again.

The rest of the round went smoothly. Afterwards we retreated to my office. My secretary brought in two cups of coffee – proper coffee, not the usual hospital brew – and we went over the notes I had made during the round. I found Mr. Dimble quite receptive to my review.

When we've finished, Mr. Dimble shook my hand. "Mr. Dashwood told me I could learn a lot from you. He was right. I have. Good luck with your new position."

I felt a bit empty when my successor had left my office. I could hear him talking to my secretary outside my door – and from tomorrow on it would be _his _secretary in front of _his_ door.

I sat down at the desk, which was still mine, but would also be _his_ desk very soon, and pondered how to spend the last couple of hours of my last working day at Imperial.

Just before my gloomy spirit could turn into worse, I heard a knock on the door.

"Yes." I answered immediately, trying to look busy.

My secretary's head popped in. "Mr. Dashwood for you."

"Let him in."

Robert strolled in in his usual relaxed way.

"Hello Martin." He greeted me before he sat down at the edge of my desk with crossed arms. "How did your last round go?"

"Just like the ones before."

Robert nodded slowly. "What do you think of Mr. Dimble?"

"He's got potential." I told him honestly.

"Potential? I see." Robert raised an eyebrow. "Coming from you, it's probably a compliment." He pointed his index finger towards me. "I'll keep you informed."

Then he bent over and inspected my desk. "Still anything to do?"

"Ah…uhm…Not really."

"So…" Robert nodded. "Ready to go?"

"Uhm…" I looked around. "Ready as I can be."

"Good. Well." Robert straightened my diary which didn't need straightening at all. "Actually, I was quite surprised when I opened my mail account this morning."

"Oh no, not you too!" I groaned.

Robert smirked at me. "Well, it _is _worth mentioning. I was worried you might be sick or something. A thank you email? Coming from you? Where did you get that idea from?"

I sighed. For the umpteenth time I cursed my inability to lie. "My wife." I sighed.

Robert looked at me long and hard. Then he whistled lowly and slowly through his teeth. I felt uncomfortable.

"She must have remarkable ways of persuasion."

I got up and was now looking down at him. "What _exactly_ do you mean?"

"Relax, I wasn't thinking of any particular details, but I'd never thought _anyone_ could have a civilising effect on you. You didn't even watch your tongue when you were a student and having to deal with well-reputed experts. I particularly remember one presentation you gave, where an internationally acclaimed cardiology expert dared to question your findings. You almost bit his head off and chewed it to pieces."

I sighed. I remembered that episode, too. "Yeah, and I remember my tutor…" I nodded towards him, "giving me a hard time for it, although I was absolutely right."

"Scientifically speaking." Robert smiled. "But where would our academic respect be if all students behaved like that?"

"Thinking, you mean?"

Robert chuckled. "No, not respecting expert opinions, I mean. Well, back to the point – social behaviour was never your forte. You made your way – despite it – but heaven knows where you'd be if you had a nous for social niceties. So…" Robert took a deep breath, "seeing this email of yours came as quite a shock."

I started to protest, but Robert raised his hand to stop me. "Actually, I couldn't understand why you wanted to move west. To be honest, changing from Imperial to Plymouth isn't necessarily a career move. Still…" Robert pushed himself off my desk and stood in front of me now, "every woman who can make you write an email like that deserves to live where she's happiest." Robert gave my desk a slight slap. "And now don't waste any more time sitting here doing nothing. Just go home." He nodded into the direction of the door. "And good luck!"

.

And so I found myself driving down to Cornwall a couple of days later, peeking into the rear mirror and seeing Louisa showing James something in one of his books on the back seat.

_To be continued…_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

This is the end of the detour in the story that started after chapter 55J


	101. Chapter 101

Chapter 101

I'm on my way to Portwenn, travelling on the First Great Western from Plymouth to Bodmin Parkway. Although it just takes less than 40 minutes on the train, it does feel longer.

I've been doing this commute twice a week for almost a year now. I had hoped I grow accustomed to it by now, but it still gets on my nerves. Not even travelling first class makes the commute more bearable.

I hate people mistaking a train carriage for their private office, bellowing into their mobiles despite talking about obviously confidential topics.

I hate people sneezing and coughing and spreading who-knows-what. Studies have proven that the risk of catching an infectious disease is highest in public transport. Sitting in the train and watching the man on the other side of the aisle makes me understand why. Judging by his complexion - the reddish eyes, reddish nose, which colour is highlighted by general paleness - this man should be in bed and not spreading his cold to all and sundry.

Disinfectants are my constant companion and I reach into my pocket to cover my hands generously with this alcohol-based liquid. I don't want to risk infecting James or Louisa.

I look at my watch. I should reach Bodmin Parkway in a few minutes. It's the last day of the week that I have to commute. Tomorrow I'm allowed to work from home.

It has been a very busy year.

.

Building up a new work group at the hospital and recruiting patients for the research program hasn't been easy. I've struggled - as I always have - to find ways in getting along with my staff well enough to be able to work with them efficiently. Luckily I have found an assistant doctor who is reasonably competent and adequately reliable. He keeps an eye on things while I'm on duty in Truro or working from home.

About once a month I have to bear being away from my family in order to confer with Imperial about the research project. I hate those days. Even when I rarely have to be down there for more than two days in a row, it's two days away from my wife and son. I would have never thought it possible, but being away from them is quite painful.

So when I informed Louisa about the dates of the meeting last October, I was pleasantly surprised by her offer to come with me.

"But I didn't think you liked London?" I asked her a bit dumbfounded by her offer.

"To live in, yes. Not to visit, silly." Louisa had laughed, her eyes twinkling like a thousand stars. Then she reached up to kiss me. "Besides, being with you in London – or anywhere else in this entire world – is still ten times better than being without you in Portwenn on my own."

I know, as a married man I should have gotten used to the idea that my wife loves me, but I have to confess that these sudden confessions of love from my wife still befuddle me. I still can't understand why anyone, and especially a woman like Louisa, should move out of her comfort zone just to be with me. I still feel the need to compensate her somehow for staying with me.

Louisa had lazily put her arms around me. "To make it clear, during the school breaks I would like to come with you, if you want to take me, that is."

"I'd love to. I was just thinking of you. You don't like London."

"I don't like London, but I do love you. Besides, it might be nice for James to keep in contact with his London friends."

So, whenever my monthly meeting coincides with the school holidays, we are going on a family trip to London. Louisa still insists, although she has learned by now that I don't have much spare time to spend with her on these days.

"A couple of hours are better than nothing." She concluded, when I offered her to stay at home because I would be sitting in meetings all day.

She can't use James as an excuse. He's the one who's really grumpy when another trip to London is on the schedule. I'm afraid he's spoiled by the country life, which he really enjoys. The way it is now, I can't see him settling in London ever. I still hope that some day he'll realise the potential our metropolis offers, especially business-wise, but right now he has to be dragged there and his mood is only lifted on our way back to Cornwall.

.

I'm finally behind the wheel of my car, driving down the A38. I'm looking forward to coming home. I'm looking forward to being with my family.

The renovation of the cottages has been finished since the end of last year. We managed to move in just before Christmas. It suited me fine. Louisa, on the other hand, was devastated. As we were sitting on packing cases on Christmas Eve, there was no chance of having a Christmas tree or wreaths or whatever they put up on Christmas. Louisa kept on moaning about James's first Cornish Christmas being such a disappointment. I let it pass, as for once I couldn't be blamed for ruining the festive spirit.

Life has settled quickly. Louisa is very happy about the work done to convert the two cottages into one. She still marvels at the harbour view we're having in most of the rooms. James simply loves it. Even I have to admit that the view and the quality of air are better than what we had in London.

Just when we thought everything was working just fine, we had to get the builders in again.

I take a deep breath and smile.

I'm turning right into the road to Portwenn. Just a couple of minutes, and I can look out for my family.

There's one problem with our new house which couldn't have been fixed. There is no parking space to be had inside the village. I have rented a garage on top of the hill. It's just a ten minute stroll down the hill, which is acceptable.

Louisa insists on picking me up at the car park most evenings. I tried to talk her out of it. It's not necessary for her to walk up and down the blasted hill without need.

"It's a good exercise for James and me." She had told me determinedly, crossing her arms in front of her. A sure sign that I had lost the argument before it had even begun. "You are a big fan of taking light exercise, aren't you? So you of all people shouldn't try to talk me out of it. Besides, the big playground is just opposite. I can take James to play and wait for you to come home. Killing two birds with one stone."

The way she looked at me signalled me that I shouldn't dare to argue with her, and so I didn't. Over the months I occasionally raised my concern that the trip up and down the hill might be too much for her and James on a regular basis. The hill is quite steep, after all. Usually she argues she's Cornish and a hill wouldn't be a hill if it wasn't steep. Still, on some days with particularly bad weather she could be persuaded to stay at home.

However, I can't deny that it is very welcoming to see my wife and son first thing I come into the village. The walk down the hill seems shorter when there's someone at your side. Still, I think it can be too strenuous, especially now. Louisa should start taking things easier, but that's one thing she has never been good at.

.

I turn into the garage and have already spotted the well-familiar figure sitting on the bench of the playground, while James is swinging back and forth on the playground overlooking the coastline.

I stride across the street and Louisa has gotten up, coming towards me.

I hug her, although it's starting to getting more complicated lately, since I'm not used to the bump yet.

_To be continued…_


	102. Chapter 102

Chapter 102

It has been an ordeal.

A humiliating ordeal.

As soon as I had settled in Plymouth and Truro, I had enquired about the reproduction units at these hospitals.

Louisa kept reminding me that neither of us were getting any younger and I shouldn't dare postpone it. If I wasn't comfortable about deciding on another child without medical expertise, then I should set the wheels in motion to get one.

Plymouth has a huge reproduction unit, so I checked the personnel. It would be embarrassing to have your doctor at the same hospital where you were teaching, but as I was involved in the two biggest hospitals in the area, we would have drive to Exeter to avoid this problem. That was quite out of the question, mainly because of Louisa.

One evening I came home, carrying some information leaflets.

"Louisa, we need to…talk." I told her when I came downstairs after reading to James.

"Hm? Anything serious?" Louisa mumbled, not looking up from her papers in front of her.

"Not serious…as such. But…" I started to stammer. How do you tell your wife that you want to talk about qualifications of a reproduction clinic? I know how to talk with peers about that. That's easy. That's purely factual, but if you are concerned yourself it's a different kettle of fish. I sighed. "If you're busy, that's alright." I let the leaflets and brochures slip onto her desk. "Maybe you can have a look at these and we can talk about it when you're ready?"

Louisa's eyes fell on the papers in question, then looked up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"I see. Interesting." She picked one of the leaflets up and flipped through it without giving it much attention. "You've been through these?"

"Yes."

Louisa closed the folder she'd been working on. "I'm all ears."

"You don't want to study those first?" I nodded towards the brochures.

Louisa got up, linked arms with me and guided me towards the sofa. "I wouldn't make head or tail of it. I'd rather have you telling me what's important. You're good at this."

We sat down on the sofa and I knew that I had to take the plunge immediately. I sorted the leaflets in front of me.

"The reproduction centre of Plymouth has a very good reputation." I started. "I'd say that's a good choice as it's within easy driving distance, unless we wanted to go further away,"

"Hm." Louisa made a noise to indicate she was listening.

"I had a talk with Dr. …Black?..." I was looking for my colleague's business card among the brochures. "Brown?..." Finally I found it. "Green! Dr. Green."

Louisa chuckled. "And what did this colourful doctor say?"

"Eh? Who?"

"You and names." Louisa shook her head. "Go on, what did Dr. Green have to say?"

"Uhm…yes. He's doing a research project about geriatric parents and fertility at an advanced age."

Louisa sighed. "Not again."

I turned towards her. "Anything wrong with that?"

"I've not really have such a good experience with being a guinea pig for reproduction studies. Besides, being referred to as '_geriatric'_ isn't very flattering either."

"Louisa, be sensible, in terms of procreation we are _considerably_ above average in regards to our age. You are rather at the top end of possible natural procreation. Both of us are past our age of highest sexual activity."

"Really? How do you know? I mean, my sexual activities in the decades before weren't much to talk about. I don't know about yours of course, but I would have guessed that they were rather poorly." There was a clear edge in Louisa's voice.

"I'm not talking about practising sexual…uhm…" I was waving my hand in the air, searching for the right word, but having to admit defeat. "I was talking about the productivity of the gonads."

"Yeah, but what good do eggs and sperms do, when they're going to waste? Whatever. Back to this research project. I don't like the idea."

"But why? It'll ensure careful assessment of all possible parameters, going far beyond the tests that would be made in a standard examination. If the result of that examination would be that it's safe to have another child and if we would be successful to conceive, a careful assessment of the child's health would be part of the program, ensuring early detection of any possible health issues. If we weren't successful in having another child, the collected data wouldn't be in vain but may help other older parents in a similar situation eventually."

"Yeah, sounds logical, but I still don't like it." Louisa bit her lower lip.

"But why?" I couldn't see anything that was objectionable and Louisa didn't give me any reason.

"As I said, last time it was quite nasty. The questions they asked…and the condescending way in which they did it."

"We have to answer questions anyway, no matter if we're in a research project or not, and of course they'll be of an intimate nature, as the subject itself is quite intimate. Dr. Green is a professional. He will treat all information we're giving him with utmost confidentiality. The results for the study are stored and used in an anonymous way. There'll be no chance that the data from the eventually published report could be traced back to us. You don't have to worry about that."

"I hadn't. I didn't even think of that." Louisa shuddered. "Horrible thought."

"I told you, it's nothing to worry about."

"So you keep telling me. Still, the last time with _your friend_ was an experience to put me off it for life."

"What do you mean? '_My friend'_?"

"That Edith woman, Edith Montgomery." Louisa spat out the name almost in disgust.

"Louisa. That was different. She lacked the necessary objectivity."

"You can say that again."

"It'll be different with Dr. Brown…eh, Green. He'll just be interested in our data. Nothing more, nothing less."

Louisa sat quietly on the sofa next to me, biting her lip. I let het ponder what I had said.

"So, if we would agree to take part in this research project, what would that mean? I mean, which tests."

"First it'll start with a thorough anamnesis. This will cover our medical history – previous illnesses, current medication, family history, and – " I stopped as I remembered when Louisa overreacted when I asked her about her period when she was anaemic, "they will probably enquire about your menstrual cycle."

Louisa listened attentively, nodding. "Sure."

"Just…to warn you."

"As long as they don't ask how frequent our sexual activities are." Louisa said with a frown.

I paused. "They might well do."

"What?!"

"After all, it _is _a decisive factor in the process of conceiving a child."

"Yeah, and I thought Dr. Montgomery was just being nosy."

I sighed. I didn't like it that this woman popped up in our conversation all the time. "She probably was." I assured Louisa that her judgement might have been on the mark.

"But you just said…"

"Yes, but I also said she lacked objectivity."

"You did. And given the fact that you can't remember the colour of this man's name, I presume you've never had any relationship with him."

"He's a man." I answered flabbergasted.

"Well, there had been rumours at one time, about you having a bi-thing."

"A…_what?!"_

Louisa chuckled. She was obviously enjoying every minute of it. "Rumour had it that you were visiting WebPages for bisexuals."

"I…_never!_" Suddenly I vaguely remembered. "Only professionally it was necessary once…_purely_ professional. You've got to believe me!" I didn't give a hoot at that time that Pauline had spread malicious malinformation to feed the grapevine, but being confronted by it all these years later was absolutely ridiculous.

Louisa giggled and patted my knee. "I know. Dealing with one sexual orientation was difficult enough for you. No chance you'd be adventurous enough to go astray. Besides, you're as straight as can be – in _every_ sense."

Louisa let herself sink back into the cushions, tucking her feet up. "That's something we can tell the good Dr. Green."

_To be continued…_


	103. Chapter 103

Chapter 103

I continued explaining to Louisa the steps that would be necessary next. Louisa listened attentively and asked a question from time to time.

When I had finished, she went quiet. For a few moments we sat silently next to each other. Then she got up.

"Care for a cuppa?" She asked me. "Because I need one now."

"Let me…"

"No, it's fine."

And so she disappeared into the kitchen.

Uncharacteristically there was no humming or singing, nor was the radio on. It was just quiet.

It worried me.

I remembered how I longed for a bit of quietude during the first months of our marriage. How the constant rattle and noise got on my nerves. Now I was used to it, and now I found the silence alarming.

Several minutes later Louisa came back into the lounge, planting a mug with steaming hot tea in front of me. Then she joined me on the sofa again.

She tucked her feet up and held her mug with both hands. She held her face above the steaming hot cup, as if she was smelling it or was warming herself on the hot air, before she carefully sipped the hot brew.

"And you are willing to go through all of this, just for me, to have another child?" She asked me calmly after she had carefully savoured the hot tea running down her throat.

"I want to, if you want to." I nodded.

Louisa sighed. "It's just," she brushed over the brochures, "this is all so _technical_. I'm just afraid there'll be no fun in it."

"Definitely not. Not at the hospital. I hope."

Louisa looked up at me and gave my knee a playful slap.

"Yeah, the hospital wasn't _quite _the place I figured to have some fun."

"So we agree?"

"And you'd be happy to give it a try when this Dr. Green gives his all clear?"

"Absolutely. My only concerns are medical in nature."

Louisa breathed in deeply. "Right. Let's get an appointment."

.

And so the odyssey started. As if I wasn't spending enough time at the hospital, I had to squeeze in appointments, blood tests, more appointments, examinations, and more appointments, hormone tests and other appointments, ultrasound scans and more appointments, checking of the DNA of sperms and ova for any abnormalities, and of course more appointments.

Louisa found the appointments rather unsettling. She didn't like anyone asking about contraception, sexual practices and any possible discomforts or anything related to our age. She cringed every time the word '_geriatric_' or something to that effect was used.

I was close to calling it a day when the prodding and probing of my private parts started. However, when I started complaining about this undignified procedure, Louisa just shot me a look that could kill.

"You got us into this. Don't you _dare_ to wiggle yourself out of it now. We stick it out now, for better or for worse. Got it?!"

There wasn't much that I could say in my favour. It was correct that I had brought this idea up. In theory it sounded quite good, but my approval was tested when strangers started to inspect my private parts. There are also more enjoyable things in life than to ejaculate into a cup.

I kept grumbling and on the morning of the most humiliating examination I was lucky that I got an invitation to a rather important meeting, one I couldn't possibly call off.

I informed Louisa about the delay in my examination.

"Oh no, you don't."

"Louisa, be reasonable. I can't possibly call this meeting off, least of all for private reasons."

Louisa went quiet for a moment. "No, I suppose you can't."

I let out the breath I was holding while waiting for her answer.

"But you can reschedule the appointment with Dr. Green. For later _today._"

"Highly unlikely. He does have other duties, you know. He's not our private consultant."

"_Today._" Louisa insisted. "And you're calling him right now."

"It's before eight. He won't be in the office yet." I objected.

"Hm. You might be right." I was relieved as it seemed that today I won most of the arguments, which would be a first. "Switch your laptop on." Louisa ordered.

"What?"

"Your laptop. Switch it on and send him an email. I like to see you asking for another appointment today. I want to know that you made it urgent."

"That's outrageous." Really, that was a tad too much, being frogmarched to an examination. "I strongly object your distrust."

Louisa bit her lower lip. After a while she started to stroke my lapels. "I'm sorry. I know the whole thing is getting on your nerves. I know, it's also getting on mine. Still, we've come so far now, we can also make the last mile. It won't be long."

I plonked myself onto the kitchen chair that was directly behind me.

"I told you, I'm going through with it."

"Yeah, I know. I should have shown you that I trust you. I really do."

I peeked upwards.

"I know, it didn't look that way." My wife admitted, crouching down to look at me fully. "I'm sorry, OK? I just got an inkling you're dreading this examination more than the others, so I was a bit…scared."

I looked at Louisa and was astonished for the umpteenth time how well she had learned to read me.

"I know how you feel. I didn't like anyone prodding around that region either. Well, anyone but you." Louisa gave me an encouraging smile. "But then again, when you were still a GP, didn't you have to prod around those areas at times? I bet you didn't think anything of it while being the doctor. Or did you find it embarrassing?"

I thought back to my practising days in Portwenn. I had seen far too many private parts, and Louisa was right, it was just like examining any other part of the body all the time. Well, almost all the time, as I remembered vaguely that I made one patient drop his trousers although he had some other trivial ailment, sleeplessness I seem to recall. That had been embarrassing, but if it was necessary for the diagnosis, I never thought any of it.

"You're right, I've seen quite a few, but it was just business."

"See. Dr. Green will feel the same about it. It's just you who has to get over it. Can you do it for me?"

I stood up abruptly, leaving Louisa following my eyes while still crouching down and looking upward to me in a most peculiar angle before straightening up herself.

"Right. I'll see what I can do. I've got to go now. I will contact Dr. Green as soon as I'm at the hospital."

Louisa pecked my cheek and said goodbye and I was on my way.

I had to admit that before that encounter it had briefly crossed my mind that I could delay the ordeal for a bit, but after demanding Louisa's trust it was my turn to deliver. Therefore, when I came home that night I was late, but the examinations had been performed.

So, with Louisa egging me on and me using my contacts to speed things up, we had finished the examination within a couple of weeks.

_To be continued…_


	104. Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Finally I got a note telling me that the final results were ready for us to pick up.

I offered Louisa to come with me to Plymouth Hospital, but now it was Louisa who chickened out.

"Look, you're by far better qualified to understand the results. I can't be of much help." My wife informed me.

"Yes, but we are both equally affected by the results."

"I know, but I'd rather get the results from you, no matter which way." Louisa stepped closer. "Can you do that for me, hm? Besides, I'm not feeling very well."

"Still late effects of your gastrointestinal infection you had? You don't seem to have come over it completely. It's how long now?"

"About five weeks. I…don't think it's that, really, but maybe it has something to do with it. Can you spare me the trip to Plymouth, please?"

I rolled my eyes. That was just perfect. For weeks she had warned me not to chicken out and encouraged me to get the results, and now as they were finally there, she didn't want to have them.

"You should have seen your GP when the problems persisted for such a long time." I informed her, as I also felt concerned for she had been a bit under the weather the last couple of days.

"It was better in between. We'll talk about it later, OK? You just go alone and tell me the results when you get back home, right?"

There was an edge in Louisa's voice and I had learned by now that it meant she wouldn't tolerate any discussion.

So I persuaded Dr. Green to work a bit longer today and give me our results after I had finished my shift.

"Mr. Ellingham, glad you're here. Where's your wife?"

"Uhm, she wasn't feeling very well. She asks to be excused. I shall inform her about the results."

"Ah, alright. So…"

.

Louisa picked me up as usual, sitting on the bench at the playground on top of the hill. When I approached her she patted the bench beside her. I brushed the seat clean with my handkerchief and joined her.

"How was your day?" She asked casually.

"Dr. Green gave me the results."

Louisa held her hand up. "Not now. Later. And otherwise?"

"Just the usual."

"Hm."

"And yours? How are you feeling?"

"OK."

We kept sitting and watching James play for a while. Louisa had the Fenn twins with her, so three boys were mucking about in the sand. Looking at James, it'll take a thorough scrubbing to get him cleaned up again.

"Where are Roger and Maureen?" I asked.

"They had something to do in Wadebridge. I offered to look after their twins."

"You shouldn't exhaust yourself if you're not feeling well."

"It got better, and maybe we'll need them to look after James sometimes. It's a mutual arrangement."

The rest of the day proceeded as normal, but whenever I tried to tackle the elephant in the room, Louisa shushed me.

Finally, after James was safely tucked up underneath his blanket, I came downstairs to find Louisa sitting at our kitchen table with two mugs at opposite sides. I took my place opposite her. I knew she was ready to talk. Many important talks had taken place at our kitchen table.

"So what did Dr. Green have to say?" Louisa asked tentatively, clutching her mug for safety.

"As he said, our results are complete now."

"And what did they show?"

"Actually, Dr. Green was quite impressed with our blood tests. He said they were remarkably good for people our age."

Louisa cringed.

"Uhm… I mean, they are above average for…for…"

"I catch the drift. Go on." Louisa nodded over the rim of her mug.

"Right. Vitamin levels are optimum."

"No wonder, the way you turned our meals into a scientific project."

"Hm?"

"Nothing, just that you care for us meticulously."

"Mineral levels are also OK, only that you are a bit on the short side regarding your iron levels. The old problem, I'm afraid, but it can be adjusted by levelling it with an adjustment of our meals. Maybe we should increase the consumption of whole-grain products and add some nuts, peas and broccoli. Maybe even liver. We'll see."

"Or jelly babies?" my wife asked me, tilting her head.

"Certainly not! I told you, they are unnecessary calories." I blustered.

"Just teasing." Louisa smiled. "Still I'd fancy some, though. Never mind. Go on."

"Jelly babies are..."

"Yeah, I know, bad for my health, my figure and my teeth. You told me. I told you, I was just joking. Go on with the results."

I peeked up and I still had a lot to say about Louisa's irrational yearning for food that simply wasn't good for her, but I continued as she had wished.

"Right. Hormone levels are also alright, given our..." I stopped, as I wanted to point out that the results were good considering our age, but remembered Louisa's uneasiness about the reminder that we were of advanced procreation age. I was looking for the right word. "...Uhm, I mean..."

Louisa waved her hand. "Yeah, I get it. So the hormones are alright?"

"Given the circumstances, yes."

"I told you that my hormones are still very much active, didn't I?" Louisa nudged my foot under the table.

"Uhm, yes. Last important factor was the screening for genetic defects. The finding was below average for...our target group." I told Louisa, to avoid mentioning the age problem.

"That means? As a short conclusion, I mean?"

"For our stage in life, the risk is below average. Of course, the risk is still considerably higher than it would have been 20 years ago."

"But we hadn't even met then. So what's the point?"

"No. I just mentioned it to make it clear that we'd still have a higher risk than at the usual...Uhm..." How on earth could you discuss this subject without mentioning our age?

"So what are you saying, Martin?" Louisa asked rather brusque.

I was completely irritated. I gave her the medical facts as completely as I could trying to avoid the traps on the way, and Louisa sounded as if she'd be ready for a fight.

I breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm.

"I'm just saying that the risk is _below_ average in our age group but _above_ average in total." I muttered through clenched teeth.

"But we knew that before all this…fuss. Or did you think that all this medical stuff would turn us into spring chicken again?" Louisa asked provocatively.

"This is ridiculous!"

Louisa rubbed her nose. "So if you're still concerned because the risk is higher than _average_, why go through all this trouble? Why didn't you say from the beginning that you didn't want another child?"

"This is an outrageous assumption! I just pointed out that…that…damn it! Of course I knew the risk would be _definitely_ higher than even five years ago, I just wanted to make sure that it's not _irresponsibly_ high - and it isn't!"

I never understood why many important conversations we had over the years always ended up in us raising our voices. It seemed we hardly ever managed to discuss matters civilly.

"It isn't?" Louisa asked, seemingly astonished.

"No, it's within the normal range."

Louisa fell silent again.

"So – what?" She asked after a moment.

"What?"

"What are you saying? That it's safe enough to have another child?" Louisa asked me in low voice, looking me pleadingly in the eyes.

"We can try. Of course we can."

"Good." Louisa nodded. "Good. So it's settled? We'll have another child?"

"Louisa, look. Just because it's safe to try for a child, it doesn't mean we will conceive. Conception can take considerably longer at our age. We were lucky with James that it worked almost instantaneously. It'll be improbable that we'll succeed soon again – if ever." I tried to get my wife's expectation into a realistic perspective.

Louisa buried her face in her hands and I could see her body shake. I rushed to her side, feeling the need to console her as she was obviously crying, but didn't know how. I was never good with emotional outbursts, and I wasn't sure that I'd ever learn.

I crouched next to Louisa, starting rubbing her back.

"Louisa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be discouraging. We will try and then we'll see. One step after the other."

Louisa didn't respond, and I didn't know what else to say. I was cursing myself for never finding the right words in situations like this, when I suddenly noticed something odd.

_To be continued…_


	105. Chapter 105

Chapter 105

It was something about her breathing. Her breathing didn't support the assumption that she was crying. No, the way her ragged breaths were exhaled it was more like…

"What's so funny?!" I snarled at her, realising that she was laughing, feeling my sympathy for her had been betrayed.

"Sorry," Louisa gasped, "nothing's funny. It's just…" Another fit of laughter stopped her until she had caught her breath. "It's just that I'm so relieved." Louisa looked up at me, looking straight into my eyes. "_Such_ good news. You just don't know _how much_ it means to me."

"I do."

"No, you don't. You can't."

"I do."

"You can't possibly start to imagine how much I dreaded hearing the results. I don't know what I'd have done if they had been different."

"Louisa, I do know that you desperately want another child. Still, if we won't succeed in having another child – which is still possible, you do realise that? – don't you think we'd be reasonably happy, just the three of us? Don't you think James would be enough?"

"No, Martin, you don't understand." Louisa smiled at me and ran her fingertips over my cheek. "I think you'd better sit down again."

"But I still don't see why you wanting to have another child is so hilariously funny." I grumbled.

"Sit." Louisa nodded towards my abandoned chair.

Reluctantly I trotted back and sat down. "I'm sitting." I stated bluntly.

Louisa took her mug, clutching it with both hands and carefully sipped her tea. Then she put her cup down and covered my hands with hers. The warm softness of her hands calmed my mood a bit.

"Martin, you have no idea how happy you have made me in giving me this news. I don't know how I would have reacted if you had seen a problem in going ahead. That's why I didn't dare to come to Plymouth with you this morning." Louisa bit her lower lip, before she continued. "I didn't necessarily want to break down in front of a stranger, no matter how nice this Dr. Green turned out to be.

"I was also relieved because I wouldn't have known how I could possible tell you the next bit, especially as an abortion would have been completely out of the question for me, no matter how high the risk might have been."

"But an abortion was never the point." I protested.

"It would have been." Louisa said softly nodding slowly.

I looked at Louisa feeling utterly stupid. I had the distinct feeling that she was trying to tell me something of significance, as her body language looked as if she was convinced she had said something relevant, but for the life of me I couldn't make out what it was.

"But we agreed that we simply wouldn't have tried for…"

I was interrupted by Louisa, who emphasised her words by squeezing my hand. "It's too late for that." She smiled at me from across the table. "And by the way, we also don't have to worry that conceiving a child might take longer as we're at _an advanced age_."

"What? Why? How?" I stammered.

Louisa giggled. "Let's see. _How?_ I guess I don't have to tell you that. You're the one with the degree in medicine. _Why?_ That's a more difficult question, and I don't think there's really an answer to it. Why did we want another child? Maybe because it's fun having James. Who knows. _What?_" Louisa paused a moment and leaned forward, nodding her head slowly again. "Yes, Martin, we are having another child."

My mouth suddenly felt dry. The whole world seemed to have switched to slow motion. I tried to process the information I just had received.

After what seemed like an eternity, or just a blink of a second, I registered Louisa's voice. "Hullo, someone in there?"

I tried to speak, but my whole pharynx seemed like the Gobi desert. I got up, grabbed a glass, filled it with water and swallowed it in one gulp.

"Hurrah, he's still alive." My wife smiled at me. "I was afraid my news might have done you in – considering our age."

"Have you seen a doctor?" I ignored the flippant remark as there was more important information to gather.

"No, not yet. I wanted to wait for the results, and I wanted to tell you first."

"So, technically speaking, it is just your hypothesis."

"Be assured, Martin, I know. I've been there before."

"What makes you so sure?"

"First." Louisa used her fingers to indicate the numbers. "My suspicions were aroused when I found the smell of coffee absolutely revolting. Second, I am substantially overdue with my period and third, I was pretty certain when the morning sickness started."

"It could still be the gastro-intestinal infection you had." I reasoned.

"That would explain neither the revoltingly smelling coffee nor the overdue period. Besides, after suspicion number three I went to a pharmacy last time I was in Wadebridge and bought one of these." Louisa reached into her ubiquitous handbag, which had been hanging over her chair. She fished around for some time and finally held one of those pregnancy tests towards me. The display clearly claimed Louisa was pregnant.

"I was told they are fairly accurate." Louisa told me while she practically pushed the item into my hand.

I stared at the display incredulously.

"Yes,…yes, they are." I stammered. "If used properly."

"I used it properly alright. I have done it before you know. Besides, it's hardly rocket science."

"No, no, it isn't – still, to confirm your suspicion we should arrange a scan asap. I will contact Dr. Green first thing in the morning. The care during pregnancy has to be done as part of the research project. Besides, we do need to establish how far along you are, assuming you're right. It might be possible that you have to have extended bed rest, given your age." I ran my hand over my face. "I will drive you, of course," suddenly I remembered my offer to drive Louisa during her first pregnancy and how she firmly declined, "assuming that this would be OK with you?"

"Sure, Martin. That's why I didn't go already, because I want you to be there."

"Good. I will make sure that the best possible care will be provided. Of course with this news, your iron levels are even more of an issue. We should address this to Dr. Green and I assume that we won't be able to balance the iron levels by adapting the meals accordingly, but have to take supplements. You'll be in need of a completely different mix of vitamins and minerals now, and I will look into this…"

I was stopped by Louisa, slamming her hand on the table while getting up abruptly. She turned around quickly, her ponytail swinging angrily, before she turned around again to face me, shouting at me: "Stop, Martin!"

I fell silent immediately and cleared my throat uncomfortably. Obviously I had done something wrong.

Louisa looked at me with fire in her eyes, then she turned her head sideways, her jaws clenched, the chin stuck out.

I didn't dare to say a word, especially as I had no clue how I had managed to enrage her before, so I waited quietly for a cue.

After a while, Louisa breathed in and out deeply, and the fury left her eyes, and her muscles relaxed. She rubbed her temples.

"Headache?" I asked.

Louisa answered with a crooked grin.

"No. Martin, this isn't working. It's…it's not how I imagined it to be."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked completely at a loss with what was expected of me.

"Sorry, I think I overreacted a bit."

"Completely understandable, your hormone levels…"

"Martin!" Louisa cocked her head and interrupted me. "Careful, or I'll take my apology back."

"Hm?"

Louisa took my hands and sat down, encouraging me to do the same. "Martin, you're not my doctor, not in this case. Get it?"

"I just want to make sure that you get the best possible care."

"I know, and I suppose I should value that."

"Should?"

"To be honest, it's getting on my nerves, a little bit."

"But…"

"No '_But_'."

"But what do you expect me to do? I've got to do something?"

"You can do a lot of things – as a husband and father. I need you for that. Dr. Green is my doctor and I am pretty sure he'll take good care of me. He can't do what you as my husband can do, and as the father of our children." Louisa explained quietly.

I let the information sink in, but realised immediately one big flaw in Louisa's concept. While I had a pretty good idea of the medical checklist to work through, I had absolutely no clue what was expected of the husband of a pregnant woman.

Louisa interrupted the silence eventually. "You're OK with that, trusting Dr. Green with my medical care? Actually, I couldn't think of anything worse than to be torn between two doctors."

"But if you got a doctor at home, why do you want to make to trip to Plymouth all the time. I could take over some – or even most – responsibilities here at home."

"That's just the point. This is our _home_, and I want it to stay that way. I go to the clinic for tests and come home to rest. I don't want a mixed zone."

"I think this is highly illogical."

"Maybe it has just a different logic to yours. Can you accept it, please?"

I breathed in deeply. What could I say? I wasn't a GP anymore and least of all a gynaecologist, so I had no right to practice medicine outside the operating theatre. On the other hand I knew it would make Louisa's life so much easier if I would do all I could do at home.

"You tell me if you change your mind and when you let me help?"

"Of course, and don't think I won't let you help. There's plenty to do for expectant fathers."

"Uhum."

"To start with – how do you feel about it?"

"About what?"

"Us having a baby. That's the topic in question, isn't it?"

"We discussed it before and we agreed, so? It's a bit sooner than expected, but that's just favourable as the problems would only grow with the time passing."

Louisa shook her head. "Is that it? We agreed upon it and now we can tick the box?"

I withdrew my hands and stood up. "What the hell do you _want_ me to say?!" I yelled and stomped out of our kitchen and retreated into my study.

_To be continued…_


	106. Chapter 106

Chapter 106

Louisa. Irrational Louisa. What the hell did she want?

I started sorting my BMJs although they were in perfect order.

Louisa. She stopped me when I wanted to discuss medical necessities, and then came up with this absolute trifle of how I _feel_ about it, as if that would change anything.

Poppycock!

I decided to calm my nerves by reading one of the latest editions of _Journal of Vascular Surgery_.

I sat down trying to concentrate, but my mind was drawn back to the unanswered question.

How _was_ I feeling about Louisa being pregnant?

I had told her that we had agreed on it before, and that was true. It was also true that until now the whole pregnancy issue had been a theoretical concept. I had agreed wholeheartedly with that.

Now it was getting frighteningly real. Louisa was already suffering. She said she'd had morning sickness and couldn't stand the smell of coffee. Why hadn't she said so when I brewed my cup this morning?

Until now, the question of a healthy child was a mere estimate of probabilities. Now it was a real worry. What if the scan went wrong? Louisa couldn't be long into pregnancy, otherwise the tests in Plymouth would have picked up the signs. So she must have conceived after her blood and hormone tests had been made. There was still a high chance that anything could go wrong, especially during the first term. How would Louisa cope with it?

And for that matter, how would I cope?

I shook my head.

Nothing's wrong, yet. I tried to convince myself.

But all sorts of things could be. That was the curse of being a doctor. You knew all the things that _could_ go wrong. Even when I was practising as a GP, I always had the whole spectrum in my mind – from the most trivial explanation to the most extreme. I prided myself that this made me a reasonably good GP, as I didn't allow myself to be surprised by any development.

However, Louisa made a point of telling me that she didn't want me as her doctor. So what should I do as a father? Or as a husband?

I thought about it and came to the conclusion that I had absolutely no clue. I also came to the conclusion that it wasn't probably the brightest idea to leave my hormone-ridden wife in a huff to hide in my study.

I got up and straightened my tie and coat. I always felt more sure of myself when I was properly dressed. I put the journal back on the pile of the magazines I still had to read. Then I went into our kitchen.

Louisa wasn't there.

I reckoned she had gone into the lounge, but I also couldn't see her there.

I went to the front of the door to check if she'd gone out, but I couldn't see her on the street. When I grabbed my keys from the key board I saw her keys still there, so I hoped she hadn't gone out and forgotten to take them with her.

I went upstairs to check if she'd decided to have an early night. When I came upstairs, I saw her standing in the open doorway of our son's room, silently peeking in.

I approached her from behind. I stood next to her.

"Something wrong with James?" I whispered, not to wake our son who seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"He's perfect, isn't he?" Louisa whispered back. I noticed that she laid her hand on her flat stomach.

"Yes."

We stood silently for a moment, watching our very real son sleep. After a while I leaned forward and whispered as lowly as I could. "I still owe you an answer."

Louisa looked around, and our eyes met inches away. I could feel the intensity of this moment in the pit of my stomach.

"You do." She replied absolutely calmly. Then she turned around, shut the door to James' room behind us and quietly went downstairs, straight into the lounge.

She sat down on her favourite corner of the sofa and nodded, indicating to me to sit in the arm chair opposite. I followed her silent order.

We kept sitting quietly in front of each other. After a while, Louisa tilted her head and furrowed her brow. I realised then that she wouldn't make it any easier for me by starting the conversation herself but expected me to start.

I rubbed my palms over my trousers.

"I'm sorry. I acted like an arse." I started.

"You did." Louisa confirmed, although this time I wouldn't have minded if she'd contradicted me.

"This situation is new to me and I don't really know what to do, what to say." I told her honestly.

"I also don't know what to say. I don't have any experience in talking with a partner about an unborn child, because the first time around, I was completely on my own."

_Ouch. That hit too close to home for comfort._

"I know. I'm sorry."

"No use in being sorry about that, I just thought…_hoped_…it would be different this time around."

"It will be. From now on it will be. I promise."

Louisa raised an eyebrow.

"I just needed some time to process this new information." I tried to justify myself.

Louisa looked at me silently, then nodded. "Yeah, maybe. I had the advantage of knowing it."

I gulped. "For how long have you known it?"

"I started suspecting it last week. I did the test yesterday. I wanted to tell you immediately, but then you got the note that we could get the results today, so I wanted to wait for that. Don't worry, I didn't leave you in the dark for ages."

"No…that's fine. Absolutely reasonable." I hurried to assure her.

We both grew quiet.

I leaned forward. "How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do?" I asked, then I remembered the smell of coffee. "Uhm, about my morning coffee – I can take that in the office. No need for you to endure the smell. You should have said."

"Thanks." Louisa nodded. "Thanks, that would be…helpful."

"Good." I was glad that I could at least offer an olive branch.

"So how are you feeling about us having another child?" Louisa prodded again.

"I…I'm not sure yet." I didn't want to confess that I was scared stiff. I didn't want to discourage her.

"Pretty scary, isn't it?" Louisa asked, relaxing a bit more into the cushions.

"Mm, yes, erm…I guess. At first." I mumbled.

"Yes, I see." Louisa leaned forward again, her arms resting on her knees, looking straight at me. "Look. I know there'll be dozens of reasons to worry. I know. I've been there. And believe me, I'm a master worrier. _Please_ don't add to it. I know you know about all the things that could _possibly _go wrong. I don't want to hear them. Only if there is actual reason to worry, something that has to be addressed. I trust you to bring it gently to me then. Otherwise, even when you have slight suspicions without proof, please don't say anything. I know it'll make life more difficult for you when you've got to bear these worries alone, but can you do that for me?"

"Yes, of course." I nodded eagerly, thankful for clear instructions.

"Good."

_To be continued…_


	107. Chapter 107

Chapter 107

Next morning I found myself on the phone arranging a scan for Louisa ASAP. I had tried to persuade Louisa to come to Plymouth with me, assuring her that I would succeed in squeezing in a scan on the same day. She declared she had a job which she couldn't abandon on the spur of the moment. I should arrange a scan, preferably during the afternoon, and then she'd come.

That left me in the uncomfortable position that I had to bring the news to Dr. Green that we already needed a scan.

He took it rather professionally, albeit mentioning that we'd been the last to enrol in his study and the first to proceed to the next stage. However, he didn't give in into my urge for an immediate scan. He insisted that it wouldn't make any sense yet. If I insisted, the earliest possible scan would be reasonable in a fortnight, but it was not really necessary. It would be far more important to arrange a blood test and an officially performed pregnancy test. He could name an OB in Wadebridge with whom he had good connections and who could perform the minor tests.

I reminded Dr. Green of Louisa's iron levels and asked for any measures that needed to be taken. I also tried to find out what could be done against Louisa's morning sickness.

Dr. Green wasn't very hopeful with the latter. His advice was to endure it, as every medical intervention might have some adverse drug reactions.

.

There seemed to be something in the Portwenn air, or maybe there was something wrong with the water. As I learned at the beginning, there's always something wrong with the water.

Just when I had reasonably recovered from the news of Louisa's pregnancy, I came home one evening to find Ana still in our lounge.

Ana had thankfully moved down to Cornwall with us and was offered a place to stay at Ruth's farm by Al. Al was managing the B&B, which was reasonably booked during the season. This fact may have earned him the right to have a say in all things concerning the farm. I also suspected that Ruth was quite thankful not to be bothered with bucolic matters. In any case, it was obvious that Ruth had more time for writing another book and acting as an external psychiatric expert lately.

Usually, I didn't see Ana at all. Louisa came home from work at about four pm, and Ana returned to the farm. As far as I understood, she helped Al to run the B&B in the afternoons.

That's why I was rather surprised to find Ana at our place when I returned home around sixish one evening. Louisa greeted me immediately at the door.

"Evening. Don't make yourself too homely yet."

"What do you mean homely?"

"Well, you don't, but today you shouldn't. Ana's still here."

"What for?"

"She wants to speak to both of us."

"Why?" I was immediately alarmed.

"I don't know." Louisa replied testily. "She didn't say why."

"Is she leaving?" I asked concerned that we'd hardly find any qualified childminders in these backwaters.

"Why should she? Unless you…?" Louisa raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Why always me?!" I managed to keep my voice down, but hissed through clenched teeth. "Maybe she doesn't want to care for _two_ kids."

"How can she know?"

"_Maybe_ you told her?" I suspected.

"Martin," I was quickly scolded "We agreed to keep it secret until the first term is safely over. So I didn't tell anyone, _obviously_."

"I certainly didn't."

We were standing in front of each other arguing, when my dear wife took a deep breath.

"You know, we're really hopeless. We're already fighting before we actually know what's going on. Maybe we should find out first, hm?"

I grumbled something unintelligible, very well aware that Louisa was just too right.

As soon as we all sat down and Louisa had practically forced a cup of tea in everybody's hand, a habit I couldn't break, Ana started haltingly.

"Mr. Ellingham, Louisa…I…I was thinking…hoping..." She breathed in deeply, then fidgeted with her tea cup.

"Spill it!" I encouraged her, growing impatient with her stammering. Immediately Louisa's head bobbed around angrily. She then looked back to Ana, addressing her with a saccharine voice: "Ana, in your own time."

Ana looked sheepishly from one to the other, then took another deep breath.

"Well, it's rather simple really. I thought, well, after the move, life is settled. Isn't it? Besides, the term ends soon, doesn't it?" Ana now clearly addressed Louisa, who confirmed it.

"So, I hoped, maybe…I mean I haven't had a holiday for quite some time?"

I didn't quite understand why our nanny intonated her statement as if it was a question. It was a fact. One I couldn't argue with, as it had been at least half a year since Ana had taken time off.

"In short, you want some holidays. For how long?" I tried to shorten the discussion.

"Four weeks? Maybe?" Ana told us hesitatingly, looking anxiously from one to the other.

I immediately realised it would bring us in a pickle with all the oncoming visits to the doctors and the clinic. At the same time, I couldn't make this point, as it would mean revealing Louisa's condition.

"What the heck?! Why do you need such long holidays?" I couldn't help, but burst out.

Louisa immediately mediated. "My husband isn't used to taking holidays. He doesn't see any sense in it."

"Well, I…we…we want to visit my aunt in Costa Rica." Ana answered my question. "For our honeymoon."

"Costa Rica?!" I blurted out.

Simultaneously Louisa squeaked "Honeymoon?!"

Immediately we looked at each other, Louisa smiling and nodding, while I could but frown.

"You're going to marry?" Louisa asked sympathetically. "Al? When?"

Ana practically beamed. "He asked me last week. We have a slot in two weeks." Ana grinned from ear to ear. "You're invited, if you like."

Louisa grabbed our nanny's hands. "Of course we'll come! And…" Before my wife made a promise we couldn't keep, I interrupted her.

"Louisa, a word."

_To be continued…_


	108. Chapter 108

Chapter 108

Louisa and I went into my study, after Louisa had excused us, allowing us some time to digest the information.

As soon as the door was closed, Louisa turned to face me, arms akimbo.

"What's wrong now?" She asked rather aggressively.

"Four weeks? And when she comes back, we will probably have to make sure that she hasn't caught any infection. In those areas with poor sanitation and high temperatures parasites and bacteria thrive. So we probably have to add another week before we can let her handle James." I tried to make my point.

"Martin, people in Costa Rica do have sanitation. You can't assume that just because it isn't England it's some kind of a dump."

"Hm, still. How do you suppose we should manage? Especially now?!"

"Just as most people have to manage - like the 90% of families that don't have a nanny or an au-pair. I'm sure we can manage for a couple of weeks."

"But especially now!" I interjected.

"Why not now?"

"Because you're pregnant?" I suggested.

"Yes, Martin. I'm aware of that." Louisa retorted dryly.

"Bloody inconvenient." I grumbled.

"Me being pregnant?" Louisa asked testily.

"No, Ana not being around while you're pregnant." I hissed back.

Louisa shook her head. "Can't you just be happy for them? It's such good news that Al has finally found someone."

"It was to be expected. Al has gotten involved with all of my employees. Must have been a lonely time for him when we were in London." I told Louisa. "Maybe I should ask for a commission?"

Louisa cocked her head and the anger left her face. "Maybe you should."

"Hm."

"Actually, I'd rather have her on holidays during my first term when I'm still fairly agile, than towards the end of the pregnancy when I can only waddle and every chore becomes a challenge, or even worse when the baby's born and we'd be left alone with James and a newborn to care for. Try to see the bright side. If she's taking so much time off right now, she won't have any holidays left for quite some time."

It always astounded me how Louisa could see something positive in every inconvenience.

I tried to find a way to defend my point, but Louisa's logic, despite being weird in a conclusive sort of way, was hard to crack. Legally speaking I had no right to even have an opinion on the mating habits of my employee, while Ana had every right to go on holiday wherever she pleases. I just didn't like the thought of having to handle this new situation without adequate help.

"Martin?" Louisa's voice brought me back to our discussion. "Do we agree?"

"Agree? On what?"

"Agree to let Ana have the private life she chooses to have. That's the point, isn't it? Besides, we wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway."

"Hm? How do you want to manage with your upcoming appointments? Who will look after James?"

"Ah, we'll find someone."

"Louisa, _who_?!" I remembered our childminding solutions, if you could call it that, when James was little. As long as Louisa had organised it – or rather didn't let me organise it – we had gone from bad to worse. I remembered vaguely Louisa's impossible mother drugging our child, a juvenile delinquent with an electronic tag and a paid nurse who didn't follow basic hygiene routines. I certainly didn't want a repeat of that.

"Relax, Martin. Someone will be available. That's how it works in Portwenn. People do care about each other."

"Ah, really?"

"Yes, _really_." Louisa emphasised and I could see her annoyed look that she always has when someone dares to question the ways of the village of the damned. "The Fenns, for example. They'd be glad to help."

"Did you care to ask them?" I probed her.

"Obviously not, or have you seen me talking with them?" Louisa replied with an edge in her voice. "Or have you forgotten that I didn't know anything about it any earlier than you did?"

"So how can you be so sure?"

"If not the Fenns, I'm sure someone else can manage. I'll take care of it. Besides, it won't be for long and part of the time the school is closed and we won't have so many appointments, now would we?"

I sighed. I didn't want this discussion to get out of control, but on the other hand we had to have a good arrangement, otherwise the tension would just grow.

"Louisa, just to get it crystal clear – before Ana boards the plane, I insist on having a solid arrangement regarding the child care. I won't risk…" I was about to bring up the old disasters into our discussion, but decided against it.

"Risk what?" Louisa was quick to pick up my unfinished sentence.

"Nothing."

"No, Martin, you don't want to risk what exactly?"

"We just have to get a clear plan before Ana is leaving, alright?"

Louisa rolled her eyes. "You're really…."

"Well organised?" I suggested.

"That's one way of putting it. Can we go back now and congratulate Ana on her engagement?"

"Right."

We were just about to leave my study, when Louisa turned around.

"And just to make it clear, _we_ will go to the wedding."

"Oh goody." I groaned.

_To be continued…_


	109. Chapter 109

_Dear readers,_

_HAPPY EASTER everyone!_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 109

Time flew by and before I knew it, I found myself in church next to Louisa, watching Ana and Al promising to stay together until death, or like in most cases today divorce, would part them.

Louisa had not been pleased with me that morning. She had made an incredible fuss about what to wear that morning. My reminder that she wasn't the bride didn't go down well.

"Still, I want to look nice." She insisted, as if she didn't ever. "At least as long as I still can."

"Hm." Was the best I could come up with, as the things I wanted to say would have brought me even deeper into trouble.

You should think it was enough that we agreed to help in filling the pews. I thought it was a particularly stupid idea as Louisa really felt poorly lately, especially in the mornings.

Although I had exchanged my morning coffee with a simple glass of water, it didn't help much in preventing Louisa from throwing up practically every morning.

I felt utterly helpless standing outside the bathroom, hearing her puke. I had made enquiries as to what could be done, but there seemed to be nothing but to endure it if you didn't want to put an unnecessary risk to the baby.

Many a morning I leant next to the bathroom door, hearing the well familiar noises from within and feeling utterly guilty.

Why did Louisa have to go through such inconveniences? Why couldn't I help her at all?

Louisa had informed me that morning sickness was normal. On my insistence she had confirmed that it had been the same when she had been pregnant with James.

I felt like a heel thinking that I had left her alone in London in a tiny bedsit, probably with dubious sanitary conditions, knowing now how much she must have suffered.

It also left me perplexed why Louisa had suggested trying for another child knowing the agony she would have to go through.

I could do nothing but have her ginger tea and lightly toasted bread ready for her to fill her now emptied stomach.

I saw little sense in attending the useless wedding of our employee when Louisa should be taking her time to rest instead.

As it couldn't be avoided, as Louisa was adamant in going, I tried my best to bite my tongue, especially as Louisa was more easily enraged lately. Probably hormones.

I succeeded in enduring the shindig quietly, until the newly-wed couple exited the church, with some village idiots throwing rice.

"Stop it at once! That's a health hazard!" I tried to talk reason into the careless wedding guests taking part in this nonsense. "Uncooked rice has rather sharp corners and can damage the eyes. Besides, it's a waste of food."

"Martin, stop being such a kill joy." My dear wife hissed to me. "It's tradition."

"I see, every stupidity is excused as long as the generations before haven't been any wiser. You just have to repeat dangers long enough and it becomes a cultural heritage. It's still a stupid danger."

"Shush, Martin. It's a fertility symbol, wishing for the couple to have many healthy children." Louisa informed me.

"Gawd," I groaned, a thought dawning on me, "that's exactly what I need. Al putting Ana up the duff, and then where will we be?"

"What do you expect? Do you think Al married Ana to sleep on the couch?"

"No," I winced as unpleasant images of my employee being engaged with Al popped up before my mental eye. "but there are reliable measures for contraception."

Louisa looked up at me. "As reliable as in our case?" Louisa smirked.

I cleared my throat, looking at my wife's still flat belly, that would soon prove our lack of contraception.

"Given the average rate of contraception failures and our personal rate, at least twelve other couples should be safe."

_To be continued…_


	110. Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Having Ana out of our hair had its pluses. For a start, it was easier to start preparations for altering the house to accommodate a second child without raising suspicion.

So far we had managed to keep the addition to the family a secret. We had agreed to try to keep it that way until Louisa had the first scan at the end of the first term.

I had called the architect to plan some alterations to the house. I had given no reason and he didn't seem to care.

My study upstairs had to go, to make room for a third bedroom. My study had been adjacent to James' room. So James' en-suite would be turned into a Jack and Jill bathroom for the children.

As a replacement for my study I had chosen the shed that was apart from the house closer to the cliffs. It would take some cost and effort to get electricity and running water there, but some investigations into wind and solar modules made at least half of the problem easier.

The footprint of the shed was quite solid. The rest of the structure was not. Therefore we basically planned to tear the whole thing down and replace it with a sturdier and airier building. The architect came up with some usable plans, so we could apply for the proper planning permission.

When I introduced the plans to Louisa, she listened to me with a growing smile on her face.

"What?" I asked a bit irritated as I didn't see anything funny.

"You are clever." Louisa smirked. "Exchanging your study for a proper man cave, far away from whining babies and toddlers throwing a tantrum."

"That is not the point!" I protested. "And it's not going to be a cave, if I can help it."

"No, Martin, I know. It's just an expression, maybe because of what most men might have. But you and caves – no way! But the idea of getting away from the family is a good one."

"I'm _not _getting away from the family, and when you see any other possibility to set up a study, you're welcome. I just don't see any other way, and I do need an office for my home office days."

Louisa put her hand on my arm. "I'm not criticising. I genuinely think it's a good idea. Why didn't we think of it when James was little?"

I looked at my wife unsure if she was teasing me or not.

"Don't cock your head at me." She scolded me. "I'm serious, honest I am."

"We wouldn't have had the room." I answered her question.

"Yeah, that _was_ the rub, though. Lack of space."

"Hm."

"It'll be good for you to get away from our messy home at times. I think we were really getting on your nerves when James was little."

"No, of course not." I automatically replied.

"No need to deny it. It was pretty obvious. I mean, for someone as organised and orderly as you are, it must be ghastly to have toys and stuff everywhere. You hardly felt at home at times, I reckon."

"It was…" I wanted to assure my wife that it had been fine, but before I could say it, she interrupted me.

"…stressful."

"I meant to say _fine_:"

"I know you did. You always do, even when it isn't." Louisa paused. "Actually, I _really _think it's a good idea for you to have your own space. Children and wives forbidden."

"Louisa, that's not what it's meant to be." I protested.

"Oh yes, Martin, that's exactly how it is meant to be. No children leaving toys behind, no squeaky soft toys, no blaring children's programs on the radio, no messy wife leaving all sorts behind her for you to pick up and fold neatly away. Just orderly stacks of BMJs, shelf meters of medical literature and spotless surfaces free of baby dribble. That's _exactly_ what you need to wind down."

"It's meant to be a study, to work from, not a holiday retreat." I replied testily, not wanting to give the impression it was meant to be a hideaway to duck out of family duties.

"If it's there, you might as well use it to give that head of yours some rest." My wife leaned forward and had my hand covered with both of hers now. "Martin, do you think I don't see that this house is all about what I want and not what you need? It was bad enough when I was cluttering up our flat in London, but now that we've moved down here, you're even in a place you don't like. A household with a kid, and soon two of them, can never be remotely as orderly as you'd like your life to be, especially when someone with a messy streak, such as I, is in charge. I'd really feel better about it if you have your little orderly haven to get away from it all, to be more of the real you. You can read your literature in peace, watch your tutorials without a baby on your lap, and when you come here, you can be _Dad_. As long as we can keep this in balance I'm absolutely fine with it. I'm just sorry that I didn't think of it." Louisa lifted her hand to cup my face. "And no need to have a bad conscience about it."

Actually, the way Louisa had put it, it sounded quite good to me. I had learned over the years to endure the untidiness that comes with family life. I had accepted it as the compromise I had to make to have a family, something that was never on my agenda when I had planned my life but was even more gratefully accepted. Still, I couldn't deny that I'd never ceased to notice the untidiness and lack of quiet. To have one place where I could restore my old, solitary order had a certain appeal to me.

"You know, Martin, I think this new baby will do us a world of good. It's giving us a chance to do things properly this time. Not the mess we made of things before." Louisa sighed.

"I…I'm sorry." I mumbled. Seeing Louisa pregnant and realising the health issues coming with it, I felt the weight of the sorry state of affairs between us during Louisa's first pregnancy heavy on my conscience.

"Yeah, me too." Louisa sighed. "Now we can leave all that behind. Now we can remember this experience together."

_To be continued…_


	111. Chapter 111

Chapter 111

Life was quite busy. Besides the chores at hand, I tried to take as much work off Louisa's hands as possible. She was quite tired generally, and the morning sickness didn't help either. So in short, Louisa felt quite rotten most of the time.

I felt absolutely guilty about it. After all, I was partly to blame for her state. As a doctor I knew of course that Louisa's body had to adjust to the pregnancy and that was the cause of her fatigue and ill health. Theoretically I knew it was a phase she had to go through to be able to let the child grow within her. Still, my medical knowledge didn't help the husband in me at all.

So the best I could do was to take over as many tasks as I could without raising Louisa's suspicion. That was the other problem I had to deal with.

Louisa was always fiercely independent and found help of any kind patronising. Chances were that we'd have a full row if she'd noticed that I was doing more than she deemed necessary. Fortunately, at the moment Louisa was too tired to notice that every chore that involved lifting weights or exposure to dangerous fumes had been done before she could start doing them.

When Louisa wanted to scrub the kitchen, it was already clean. The bins had been emptied before they were completely full. The bath was in spotless condition always.

It was a bit of a hustle to get everything done, but I didn't want to put any additional risk on Louisa's or the baby's health.

Besides, it also meant that I fell into bed each night completely exhausted, not getting myself in danger of putting any claims on my wife's attention. I knew I would have found it difficult not to make advances, as I found myself stealing glances at her which were stirring some inappropriate notions within me. I wasn't sure if it was the pregnancy, but I found my wife even more attractive than usual. I couldn't help noticing that Louisa's bust had gained in size, which was definitely down to her expecting a baby. But maybe there was also the strange attraction that somewhere deep inside her our baby was developing. I couldn't help but admire the wonder of life whenever I saw Louisa.

As a result, I was adamant to give her all the space she needed. Our growing child needed Louisa the most now, so I had to do everything to give Louisa all the support she could get.

It was a week before Louisa was due to have her pre-natal in Plymouth, with the ultrasound being on the schedule. Louisa was quite nervous about it. It would be the first indicator if the blob inside her was possibly developing well. I didn't want to think of the alternative.

Just when Louisa needed my moral support most, I was summoned to London to one of the regular meetings comparing the results of the research project. The timing certainly wasn't convenient, but there was little I could do about it.

Ana was still on her honeymoon at the other side of the world, and I was worried leaving Louisa alone.

And alone she would be, as James would spend part of the summer holidays with the Fenns. Roger and Maureen were going to Wales in their camper van, visiting some relatives of hers, while visiting the eisteddfod.

I had tried to object to this for several reasons.

First, I don't think camper vans are really safe, neither to drive nor to stay in. There is hardly any basic hygiene to be maintained while having a shower room for dozens of people.

Second, I thought James was still too little to go on longer journeys, least of all without his family.

Third, I didn't think a conglomeration of the Welsh ideas of culture would necessarily be the right socialisation for a boy in the 21st century.

As expected, Louisa had the opposite view. She thought it would be good for James to spend a week with children of a similar age. Besides, James had taken a fancy to camping since that fateful night Al had introduced him to it. As Louisa had pointed out correctly, I would never go camping with him. So I should be glad someone else would.

As always, I lost arguments like this. Strangely enough, everyone who learned about this plan took Louisa's side. Without any support whatsoever I found it difficult to convince my dear wife.

After we brought James over to the Fenns to leave for Wales one Monday evening, seeing him off, Louisa linked arms with me.

"Just the two of us now."

"Hm." I was looking sadly into the direction in which the camper van had disappeared, fearing the worst already.

"It's been a while. Since we've been alone, just the two of us, I mean."

"Hm." I didn't like the thought of having to trust my son's health to someone else. Still, I tried to force my attention toward Louisa. "Not for long. I've got to go to London the day after tomorrow." I added sadly.

Louisa looked up at me astonished. "I thought I'd be coming with you?"

At least, her comment claimed my full attention, allowing my eyes to leave the spot at the horizon where the van had disappeared.

"You did?" I asked incredulously.

"'course I did. I mean, I always come with you when the meetings are between terms."

"Uh, yes, but I thought in your condition?"

"What do you mean by that?" Louisa asked rather aggressively, and I knew I had managed again to have put my foot in it somehow.

"I mean, with your pregnancy and…" My voice trailed off.

"And that means you don't want me with you? You're embarrassed about me being pregnant, or wot?"

"It's not that! I…I…" I gulped. Louisa couldn't be further away from the truth if she'd tried to be deliberately. I sighed. "It's just London is far away, you know, and you're tired."

"I know where London is. I've lived there. Twice, actually. And as long as you don't intend to walk all the way to London, I can't see what the distance got to do with anything. Or have you also read somewhere that you're not supposed to take a train when preggers?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"So why don't you want me in London, all of a sudden."

"It's not that I don't _want_ you in London. Actually, I _do_ want you with me in London. I just think it wouldn't be fair to you to take on such a long trip when you're feeling unwell and I'd be busy during the day, just for you to sit in a hotel room alone."

Much to my surprise Louisa tiptoed to give me a peck on the cheek. "I thought so. It's just nice to hear you saying it." She smiled up at me completely calm.

"What?" I asked, still a bit dumbfounded by the sudden mood swings of my partner.

"Well, Martin, you never say nice things unless you're cornered. So I've got to corner you when I need to hear that you care about me."

"Hm." I grunted and started stomping off towards our parked car.

On our short trip home Louisa kept glancing at me. Finally she broke the silence. "Sorry, Martin. You're angry with me?"

"No." I replied curtly.

"Sure you are. Maybe you're right, but you've got to stop fussing. You can't expect me to sit around for the next seven months and just be waiting. I'm not sick or something, just pregnant. The most natural thing in the world."

"You're tired." I added.

"Yeah, it's been a bit tiring. Still, it doesn't make much difference if I rest in a London hotel or in a Cornish cottage. Besides, I hope the worst part is over, at least for the time being. I'm feeling a bit better."

"Sure." I added with little conviction.

"Yeah, Martin, sure. I thought maybe we could make a weekend of it. It's not often we have the chance to be away without having James in tow, and it'll be a long time before it'll be just the two of us again. Maybe we can make the most of it, hm?" Louisa smiled at me.

I glanced over, watching her happy face, and had to tear my eyes back onto the road. "I don't want you to feel obliged." I assured her.

"You never do, but unless you declare firmly that you strongly object that I'm coming with you…"

"Rubbish." I grumbled.

"Good, because I'd really love to come."

So I rearranged my bookings and two days later we found ourselves on our way to London.

_To be continued…_


	112. Chapter 112

Chapter 112

We had little time to spend together during the first two days of our stay. Having only a few meetings and those were few and far between, the agenda at the hospital was packed.

Louisa and I didn't even have time to eat something together, as it was well after my eating time when I returned to the hotel.

Sure enough, on Friday night, after my last meeting which went on forever, I found my wife asleep on the bed on my return. I sneaked in carefully so as not to wake her up.

I sat down at the little dressing table in the room, the only place where I could do some paperwork without disturbing my sleeping partner. I switched my laptop on and started making some notes and working out some milestones I had to achieve with my department back in Plymouth.

I had been working for some time before I felt Louisa's slender hand running a finger along my neckline.

"Just a moment, I've got to finish this." I grumbled, taken a bit by surprise by the unexpected interruption. I had kept on typing, but I quickly withdrew my hands when Louisa closed the lid shut.

"Hey!" I turned around to face her.

"That's better." My dear wife purred, cupping my face with both her hands. Her thumbs caressed my cheeks before she bent down to give me a long kiss full on the lips.

"What was that for?" I asked her when she broke the kiss.

"You've worked enough. Now it's time to relax."

"I haven't quite finished."

Louisa folded her hands behind my neck and sat down on my knees. "I know. We haven't even started." She kissed me again, and it dawned on me what she had in store for the extended stay.

"So no more work for today." Louisa leaned against me and I put my arms around her for support.

"Easy." I cautioned her. "The chair might not be strong enough for two."

"Even three." Louisa breathed into my ear. "Relax. You've worked enough for this week. I don't know how you manage it all."

"Hm?" I whispered dreamily, Louisa's ministrations having a clear effect on my ability to communicate.

"I mean squeezing in all the housework into your busy schedule. I didn't even notice when you were doing it."

I looked up alarmed. "You knew?"

"I'm pregnant, not completely dumb." Louisa purred, nuzzling my neck. "I did notice that we obviously never have any rubbish anymore, and that the floor seemed to be miraculously stain-proof all of a sudden. And I didn't expect that any fairies had come to clean our house."

"Sorry." I sighed.

Louisa proceeded to nuzzle the area around my ears. "It was so sweet of you trying not to let me know." Her tongue making any protest of mine impossible. "You're the perfect husband, you know."

"Hardly."

"That was _so _sweet." Louisa got up, took my hand and pulled me into the direction of the bed. "And now it's time for your reward." She grinned mischievously.

"I thought you'd be offended."

"Yeah, I know." Louisa kept pulling me towards the bed. "At first I felt a bit…cheated…in a way, but I was too tired to object."

"I didn't want you to feel patronized, you know."

"You poor thing. I'm terrible to care for, aren't I? But I never had anyone to care for me. Not the way you care for me. Something to get used to." Louisa plopped down on the bed. "But I'm practising."

Louisa had grabbed me by my tie and guided me onto the sheets. As long as I didn't want to get strangled, I had to follow.

"It's not only your health." I told Louisa. "Of course you're tired more easily, but if you inhale dangerous fumes, it can harm the baby."

Meanwhile Louisa scrambled back on the bed to prop herself up on the cushions. "Yeah, explain it to me. Explain everything in detail." Louisa asked me while loosening my tie.

"Even quite common substances like petrol or cleaning agents can enhance the risk. As we're already in a high risk group, I didn't want you to add to it."

"course not." Louisa purred, while unbuttoning my shirt. I was kneeling on all fours on the bed right now looking down at my beautiful wife, and I realised this was the last possible moment to back out if she wasn't ready. The way Louisa was turning me on, I'd soon reach my point of no return.

I leaned back to kneel upright on the bed. Louisa tugged at my tie hanging loosely around my neck.

"Louisa, you're sure about this?" I asked tenderly.

"_Very_ sure." Louisa confirmed, reaching up to fold her arm around my neck to draw me closer.

"I mean with your pregnancy. You're not uncomfortable about it?"

"Martin, you don't honestly think I want to live like a nun for the next – well, almost a year really, with the post-natal check. And don't you remember, when the little one's here, we'll probably be traipsing around all night, trying to calm the poor tyke. No, Martin. Now's the best time. Or aren't you attracted anymore?"

I leaned down to show my wife just how attractive she still was. When we had to come up for air, I just heard Louisa's instruction.

"You're on top. Won't be long and it isn't possible anymore."

_To be continued…_


	113. Chapter 113

Chapter 113

I was drawing lazy circles on my wife's shoulder while the growing dimness in the room made the lines of the real world blur. Louisa had fallen asleep against my shoulder and I was left alone with my thoughts.

My assessment of the recent developments had been favourable. There was just one thing worrying me, and that was the scan next week. It would be the first evidence if the fertilised egg we had created had a fair chance to develop into a human being.

Both prospects were terrifying to some degree. Remembering the tension between Louisa and myself after James' birth frightened me a bit. Part of it had been due to sleep deprivation, although I had to admit that it only enhanced the pile of problems we were carrying at that time. I had managed to find a way to get along with James, but a possible arrival of a new baby would bring a new challenge, the challenge to connect with another human being.

However, the other possibility would be horrible beyond belief, although I knew that losing the child was still a very real possibility. I shuddered thinking about the effect it would have on Louisa. She wouldn't be able to cope with it, and I wouldn't be able to cope with Louisa's emotion. I never managed to be very good at that, managing Louisa's emotional outbursts.

If my school had succeeded in making me a good member of the Anglican Church, I would have prayed. Many times I heard patients claiming that it helped them, either in preparing for getting their results or in dealing with bad news. There are even studies that prove that religious patients recover significantly more often from life-threatening diseases than enlightened people.

I never understood these findings, although they correlated with my personal experience. If you were a big fan of someone, you should be eager to meet him. So why were religious people so reluctant to meet their master?

Anyway, I had to rely on statistics and probabilities, and the odds weren't really on our side. I had to admit, they were not completely against us either.

What got to me most was that I wasn't able to influence the matter at all. Watching helplessly for chance to decide our fate wasn't really my forte.

Still, I knew that I had to keep all these thoughts bottled up. Louisa depended on me to give her comfort, not to add to her anxiety. I couldn't help mentioning the possibility of a miscarriage and the odds at our age immediately after Louisa's announcement of her pregnancy. Louisa gave me a wary look, and when I didn't stop talking, it soon developed into a full row. Louisa was very sensitive in that respect. I had tried to explain to her that I simply wanted her to see the complete picture. She had declared in no uncertain terms where to put the _complete picture._

So I had learned to keep my mouth shut.

"Penny for them." I suddenly heard my wife's voice.

"Hm?"

"Your thoughts. You seemed miles away."

"Not really."

"And you seem worried." My wife propped herself up next to me, resting on her elbow.

"I'm not." I denied my worries, as I have done all my life.

"Sure you are. It's quite obvious. This furrow is a dead giveaway." Louisa told me, running a finger over the bridge of my nose up to my forehead.

"Really, just tired."

Louisa snuggled closer. "Thanks for not mentioning it. For not saying the wrong thing."

I looked down at her and I knew that she knew. Still, she wanted me to keep silent. I would never understand her.

"Tonight was great, wasn't it?" She purred.

I bent down to kiss the top of her head.

"We've got to make the most of it while we still can." She added.

"Hm." I would trust her guidance about when she'd start to feel uncomfortable about _it_.

We were lying silently next to each other for quite some time.

"You'll soon find me repulsive." I suddenly heard my wife whisper, and although it was dark, I knew she was biting her lip. She always bites her lip when she's insecure.

"That is _absolute rubbish!_" I exclaimed, sitting up in bed.

Immediately I felt Louisa's hand flutter against my chest. "Careful. Neighbours."

"That is _absolute rubbish!_" I repeated in an urgent whisper.

"No, Martin. I know. It's fine. Soon I'll be all fat and bloated…"

"You're not going to be fat. You're going to be pregnant." I clarified.

"_Am_, you mean. I _am_ already pregnant." My wife corrected me.

"Yes, you are." I nodded absentmindedly, distracted from my lines of argumentation and trying to keep focused on what I was trying to say. "Pregnant, I mean. Not fat."

"I'm going to be enormous. The miraculously exploding woman." Louisa added, her voice a tad strained when she tried to make light of the discussion. A habit she has which is lost on me.

"Of course the foetus, once starting to develop completely, will use more room in your uterus, which will lead to a visible…uhm…."

"Yeah, Martin. I know. I've been there."

"Right."

"And I know you are disgusted by fat people. So it won't be long…"

"You're not going to be fat!" I clarified again.

"It'll look the same." Louisa meekly added. "And I know how difficult it is for you to stand fat people."

"I can't stand what they're doing to their health. Their lack of self-discipline that'll lead to…"

I was interrupted by my wife chuckling. "Well, this pregnancy isn't a glorious example of supreme self-discipline either."

"That's different." I mumbled, embarrassed about her insinuation.

Louisa rubbed my arm. "Sorry. I _adore_ your self-control, but I also _love_ the rare moments when you lose it." Louisa giggled. "They're so much fun."

We kept lying next to each other silently for a very long time. I wasn't sure if Louisa had already fallen asleep again, but I wasn't able to sleep yet. I had to get something off my chest.

"Louisa, are you asleep?" I whispered as lowly as I could, so as not to wake her in case she was sleeping.

"Nope."

"I just…uhm…to let you know…you know…" I stammered. "Uh…nothing."

"Yes, Martin?" Louisa encouraged me.

"Uh…I'll always find you…uhm…you know…."

"Find me what?"

"You know." I added gruffly, as I grew impatient, mainly about my inability to say _nice things_, as Louisa calls it.

"Yeah, I think I know. I'd just like hearing it from you." Her fingers started caressing my hair.

"You're beautiful." I grumbled. "Happy?"

"Yeah," Louisa purred. "_Very_ happy." She propped herself up to give me a peck on the cheek. "Everything's going to be fine. I feel it."

_To be continued…_


	114. Chapter 114

Chapter 114

We had a very pleasurable weekend in London. I even managed to get some tickets for the opera on short notice. Louisa had protested as she hadn't packed anything nice to wear, an objection I'll never understand, as she has a lot of things she looks nice in. To silence her objection, I offered to buy her something nice. After all, in London it shouldn't be a problem to get something fit for a nice evening out.

Louisa objected again, this time about the unnecessary expense. Another habit she can't shake. Having to worry about her finances all her life, she simply can't get used to buying anything unplanned. Money is the least of my worries, and my wages should easily be able to accommodate the expense of the odd dress or two.

The price I had to pay, however, exceeded the amount of money that the dress cost. Louisa insisted that if we were going shopping, I had to accompany her. Exactly my idea of fun.

I wasn't much of a help either. Louisa kept putting on dress after dress, asking me how she looked.

"Nice." That was my standard response. What else could I say? She looks nice, no matter what she's wearing.

Finally Louisa had decided on her own, on a dress she felt comfortable with and we were allowed to leave. I can't stand shops. With my tailor, it's straight business. He has my measurements which are regularly checked over when I'm in London, and if I need some new suits, I just send him an order with the required colour. He sends a sample of the cloth, and when I approve, the suit is made. It just requires one trip to London for the final fitting and then I usually can take the suits with me a bit later. No big deal.

With Louisa, it takes ages. Worst of all, I had to endure the natter of the saleswomen, who try to sell something no one asked for. Louisa had forbidden me to comment on this while in the shop since the first time we went shopping together. She didn't like the clerk being left in tears. It had been her fault entirely! She was absolutely incompetent!

Louisa never sees these things the same way I do, and usually Louisa doesn't want me close to any shop she's frequenting.

Today, she wanted me to join her and I followed, keeping my mouth shut.

The only help I offered was carrying the bags, which was a rather safe thing to do, even by my standards.

We were walking down Oxford Street, when Louisa sighed that soon she had to start shopping for her maternity clothes.

"Hm?" I was rather slow in picking up what she meant.

"I'll outgrow these things pretty quickly." Louisa added.

"Don't you have any from your first pregnancy?"

"Nah. I gave them to Melanie."

"Who?"

"You probably won't remember her. She was on the staff of Portwenn primary when we left Portwenn and had just found out she was pregnant. She was on a tight budget and I thought I'd never need maternity clothes again – who would have thought. So why bother carrying them to London?"

"Hm. You want to buy some?" I offered.

"Nah, I can do that later."

"But we're in London now."

"I noticed." Louisa smiled, interlinking arms with me.

"Why come back later just to buy some new clothes?"

"London's not the only civilised place in the UK. There are shops in Wadebridge and Truro." Louisa informed me.

"But in London…" I started but was interrupted immediately.

"I don't want to buy anything yet." Louisa interrupted me sharply. Then she sighed. "Not before the scan, anyway."

I looked at her. She was just as scared as I was that something might go wrong.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

There was tension in the air. We both were a bit on edge, and Louisa snapped at me whenever I tried to care. I was counting the hours for the scan. I hoped things would be better afterwards.

Wednesday morning, Louisa accompanied me to Plymouth. We had chosen a day for the scan when I was working in Plymouth anyway, so I just had to take a couple of hours off at most. Louisa thought it was ridiculous that I insisted on taking the car the whole way instead of going by train from Bodmin Parkway, but I didn't want any stress on Louisa. Least of all I didn't want to risk anyone bumping into her.

The ride to Plymouth was a silent and strained affair. I tried to inform Louisa about what was about to be tested, but she shushed me.

"I know what they're doing. I'm not worried about the procedure. I'm worried about the outcome. Do _you_ know the results, _Doctor_?"

If she uses my medical title, I know I'd better keep quiet. I ducked my head and clutched tighter to the steering wheel.

Some quiet minutes passed, before I felt Louisa's hand on my thigh.

"Sorry for biting your head off. I'm just a bit…worried."

"Don't worry yet. Let's see how the scan goes and we'll take it from there."

"Hm, yes. It's just…" Louisa stopped without finishing the sentence.

"Just what?"

"I want it so much."

I concentrated on the road.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

We were led into the waiting zone. Louisa fingered for my hand and held onto it for dear life. I was glad to see Dr. Green approaching after just a few minutes. I wasn't sure how long Louisa's lower lip could have withstood the constant chewing.

First Dr. Green inquired about Louisa's condition – her morning sickness, and aches or pains, the usual stuff.

The they drew some blood, to analyse the mineral and hormone levels. As we were part of the research project, they'd also isolate foetal DNA from the maternal blood for pre-natal analysis for genomic defects.

When Louisa was in the lab for her blood sample, I stayed outside to talk to Dr. Green. I didn't want to risk getting queasy. I have conquered my blood thing, but whenever my close family is involved, I couldn't vouch for it.

Finally the crucial moment had come. We were led into lab with the ultrasound. Louisa hopped onto the examination table. She had chosen a top that could be easily rolled up, as she didn't want a repeat of that awkward examination when we both struggled to get her tiny buttons undone.

Her belly was covered generously with the contact gel. Then the transducer was pressed against her belly.

Louisa grabbed my hand and held it tight. I looked up at the medical staff present, but no one seemed to pay attention. Their eyes were glued to the monitor.

First there was just an unidentified mass while they were fishing around to find the exact spot. I knew that you wouldn't see the foetus right away, as you had to find its location first, but I didn't know how long this time felt when you were a parent.

Louisa mistreated her lip with her teeth again. Her eyes, formerly glued to the monitor, darted sideways to anxiously seek my eyes. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Louisa looked back at the monitor and so did I.

Suddenly the image changed. There was a definite human shape. A few adjustments and there it was. Our child.

I gulped.

Louisa's head snapped sideways to look at me fully.

"Martin, it looks alright, doesn't it? I mean, does it look alright to you?"

I tilted my head. My mouth felt dry. I looked at the screen. The heart was pumping away regularly. A Doppler would show later the rate of the heartbeat, but the movement looked right to me. Tiny feet and arms could be distinguished. The head, however, was the most prominent part. The profile of our little child.

"Martin!" Louisa voice brought me back into the consulting room.

"Uh, yes?"

"Are you worried about something?" Louisa asked anxiously.

I quickly glanced at Dr. Green. After all, he was the OB expert in the room. Green smiled and gave me a short nod.

I squeezed Louisa's hand tighter. "Looks good to me."

"Really?"

"We should check the heart rate, and we'll see what the blood and DNA analysis will bring – but it looks good."

Dr. Green took some measurements and made a print for each of us. Then he used the Doppler to count the heart rate. After a short search for the right spot, the Doppler was thumb thumb thumbing away at a fast rate. I looked at my watch and counted the beats. It seemed to be in the right range.

Louisa smiled up at me, giving her lip a rest.

"Isn't it too fast?"

"No. Exactly right." It was silly, but I was almost proud for our baby to have the right heart rate. For being able to develop into a human being with limbs and organs at exactly the right spot.

As a doctor, I knew the mechanisms responsible for cells developing at the right time into the right shape. Still, as a father, I was overwhelmed by the wonder of life.

Louisa was given a tissue to tidy herself a bit, then we were asked into Dr. Green's office.

When he talked us through the results I realised that during the examination, Louisa hadn't asked him once. She always had asked _me._ Maybe she needed me as a doctor after all, despite her assurance before that I wasn't to be involved in the medical side.

Dr. Green more or less confirmed what I had told Louisa while the examination took place. We would receive the full analysis of the other tests in about two weeks, but with the heartbeat going and the shape of the foetus looking good, we were looking forward to this pregnancy more optimistically.

_To be continued…_


	115. Chapter 115

Chapter 115

We were sent home with a list of appointments to keep, mainly to gather data for the research program, but also to detect any abnormalities if they should occur.

While I felt a bit more in control due to the close monitoring, Louisa felt uneasy about the higher number of tests and the constant talk about genetic defects. Of course, the defects were only mentioned in the course of describing the tests. There was no indication whatsoever that it was a realistic worry. Still, Louisa confessed that night that she worried a lot, as all of the things that could possibly go wrong were being discussed all of the time.

"Look, Louisa, it's ten times better to know what we'll need to deal with and to know as early as possible if we have to face any problems than to be caught unprepared at the time of birth. We are not _increasing_ any risk, just monitoring _if_ there is any."

"It's easy for you. You're a doctor. I'd rather not hear what _could _go wrong."

"That is absolutely illogical."

"Yeah, I know it is. Still…"

I put my arms around her shoulders. "We're in this now, and we have to see it through. Still, if you're feeling more comfortable without the tests, we can always ask to be excluded from the research program."

Louisa looked at me silently for some time. Then she reached up to peck my cheek. "Thanks."

"So we're going to stop the research program?" I asked tentatively.

"You're feeling more comfortable with all the tests?"

"I do, but if they are making you uneasy…"

"Then we'll go though with it. I promised you. Beside, you're probably right. The risk is there, if we talk about it or not."

Louisa took the scan we had received today. "Does it really look good to you?"

"It's exactly how it should be."

"I can remember James' scan. It's such a shame that we don't have it anymore, but I will keep this. I want at least a memento of one of our children."

"Hm?"

"What did you do with James' scan?"

"Huh?"

"The one you snatched from me? You've probably thrown that away after discussing the issue with Edith." Louisa sighed.

I jumped up and hurried into my study, leaving Louisa behind a bit baffled.

"It wasn't meant as any criticism!" She shouted after me, when she saw me disappearing quickly.

"No!" I assured her. "Wait!" I didn't want her to follow me for no good reason at all.

I rummaged through my books and in no time I found the bookmark for the OB chapters from the book I had needed when I had been a GP.

I rushed back into the living room. As soon as I entered the door, Louisa started assuring me that she didn't mean any harm.

"Martin, it's long gone. I know that there wasn't any reason for me to…"

Louisa didn't finish her sentence when I let a scan slip next to the one we received today. Louisa picked it up, and she looked up at me with her mouth agape.

"You've still got it?" She asked me incredulously.

"Sure."

Louisa looked at the old scan, and then she took the new one to compare it to.

"Where has it been?"

"It must have slipped into one of my books, one of those I had at the surgery at that time."

"It _slipped_ into one of those books _accidentally_, and you don't even need five minutes to find it?" Louisa asked me with a raised eyebrow.

I realised for the umpteenth time that I'm rubbish in obstructing the truth. "I used it as a bookmark. For the OB chapters, actually."

Louisa smiled at me and patted the sofa next to her, as I was still standing in front of her. While I sat down, Louisa interlinked arms with me.

"You know, one of the things I love you for most is that you can't lie. So many men have lied to me and it caused all sorts of problems. Mostly you don't even try, but if you do, you're really rubbish at it. You couldn't lie even if your life depended on it."

It was a rather dubious compliment Louisa had paid me, but it was hard to contradict. Louisa must have sensed my mixed response.

"It's a good thing. It really is." She assured me. Then she held both photos of the unborn babies in front of her.

"Of course, James' scan is from a much later stage in pregnancy." She was rather talking to herself. "Isn't it amazing that this little silhouette is our little son?"

"Actually, the growth from a fertilised egg is a very amazing process which is highly regulated. Most important for a normal development is that the rights genes are switched on and off at the exactly right state of development for exactly the correct time span. The genes itself don't differ that much between mammals. There is a congruency of genes of over 90% between a rabbit and a whale. The regulation of gene expression is mainly causing the significant difference in the phenotype."

"It is really a wonder how this little life is growing into a human being." Louisa smiled. "And soon it'll start to show, you know?" Louisa patted her belly.

"I told you, I am aware of the technicalities. It's not going to cause any problems between us." I assured Louisa a bit enervated that she brought this subject up again, although I thought it was dealt with for good since our London stay.

"I know." Louisa squeezed my hand. "It's just, we've got to tell them soon."

"Tell who?"

"Well, everyone basically. Ana needs to know, as it will affect her job. Ruth should know, as she's family. If Ana and Ruth know it, we can tell Al as well, as he'd probably pick something up soon. My school needs to know, as they have to make plans for my maternity leave. The rest of the village will find out soon anyway, so I'd better start dropping the news into the conversation."

"Why not put it on the village board?" I grumbled, not liking the thought at all that our private affairs will soon be subject of the village grapevine.

"That could speed things up." Louisa smiled at me. "Still, I think it would be lacking a personal touch, don't you think?"

"Oh gawd!" I groaned.

Louisa rubbed my arm. "You're hardly in the village anymore anyway. So you should be comparatively safe from nosy villagers. And I can handle it. In fact, I'm really quite bursting to tell the good news."

"I'll never understand…" I couldn't finish as Louisa gave me a quick kiss full on the mouth.

"I know, and I accept that, but we can't keep it a secret for much longer. As soon as it starts to show, everyone will know anyway. I suggest we ask Ruth for dinner next weekend and tell her then. She should know first. After all, she's family. The week after next, Al and Ana will come back. I can ask Ana to stay longer if you want us to tell her together?"

"I can do without." I grumbled, as my wife seemed enthusiastically embracing the spreading of the news.

"Right. I'll tell her then when she's back. I'll wait until then to inform the school. Afterwards I'll start to spread the news by and by when I'm talking to anyone. That's alright with you?"

"Hm." I grunted. Did I really have any choice?

_To be continued…_


	116. Chapter 116

Chapter 116

It had been a busy weekend – again. It seemed life with Louisa was filled with busy weeks and even busier weekends.

A couple of years ago my idea of a perfect Sunday was taking an old clock out of the box to tinker with it. When I had been really lucky, I even found time to read the newest edition of the BMJ before some malingering time-waster unable to read the calendar would darken my doorstep.

Nowadays, there were no patients anymore pestering me on my days off. And yes, I did have days off. Now my patients were safely tucked up in bed in a hospital up to fifty miles from here, unable to burst into my private quarters.

I wouldn't know how to squeeze them into my weekend schedule anyhow.

On the Saturday we had to pick up James from the Fenns, who had just returned from their holidays in Wales. Louisa was happy that James had found such good friends in the Fenn twins.

I had been shocked with the ill fate that had befallen James' clothes. They looked as if he had worn them in a pig sty, and I knew what I was talking about.

Roger had just laughed as I was shocked at seeing the state of his laundry.

"Hey, mate. They are boys! You can't make omelettes without breaking eggs."

"I don't mind the eggs, but what were they doing down there? Reviving the mining industry single-handedly?"

"Didn't I tell you that Maureen's cousin has a farm down there? The boys loved it, especially making hay. Do you know that your boy is really good with animals?"

"Gawd." I groaned. Exactly what I needed. James being exposed to all the germs these flea- and tick-ridden beasts would carry. I'd have to check him over as soon as we were home, giving him a good scrub and some immune enhancing measures.

Louisa was completely over the moon that James had such an eventful stay at the farm. Maybe I should check Louisa over too, to prevent any infection James might have carried with him to pass onto Louisa to harm her or the unborn child. Thankfully I still had the basic kit at home to carry out a general check-up.

James was a true chatterbox. He couldn't keep quiet even long enough to get some air. How a person could talk that many words a minute without any noticeable breathing was beyond me. He was fluttering around us like a little insect and it was really difficult to get him into the car and back home.

In between saying goodbye to the Fenn twins he managed to give Louisa a full list of the complete disgusting menagerie, turned to Roger as quick as a flash to ask him for his next music lessons, turned to me to tell me how funny the people at the music "_thingy_" looked, and was talking again to his mother before I had any time at all to grasp the subject we were talking about at the moment. Louisa laughed and smiled and looked utterly happy while I felt completely out of place. Everything was too quick for me. If you talk about one subject, you shouldn't switch to another without any warning and with no good reason. I had no idea if Louisa and James answered the actual question last put or if they were on a different topic altogether.

Finally I managed to get my little family into the Lexus and I even managed to buckle everyone in safely. I breathed in deeply before I turned towards the driver's side.

Roger stopped me before I got into the car. "Hey, mate. You look a bit peeved. Everything alright?"

"Perfect." I snarled, knowing too well that if I voiced my objection, everyone around me would have a different opinion.

"Look, I know it's hard to let go, to trust your precious son to anyone else. But you can't mollycoddle him forever."

"Mollycoddle?!" I asked Roger, not at all agreeing that I was doing any such thing.

"Yeah, mollycoddle. You want to keep him safely away from any germs and accidents…"

"And that's so bad, is it?" I asked enervated, not at all knowing what Roger was talking about. After all, that's what parents are there for.

"No, not at all." Roger assured me quickly. "It's just, they do have to test their boundaries. They have to try things they won't be able to succeed at yet, as the experience of failing is just as important as the little triumphs. They have to compete with other children to find out what they can do better and also if others are better at it. And yes, they have to fall flat on their faces sometimes to learn to pick themselves up. Even if it means a bit of an abrasion on the knee."

"His knee?! James has injured his knee?!" I looked at my son happily chatting away in the car. I felt Roger's hand on my arm.

"Hypothetically speaking. There's not a scratch on him. You can check, but you'd probably do that anyway." Roger smiled. "I was just referring to your panic about James being exposed to germs on a farm. He has to find out for himself whether he likes animals or not. You're also taking him to London, aren't you?"

"Of course. He came with us a couple of times when I had a meeting in London. He's still got friends there."

"And you're not concerned about the pollution harming his airways." I tried to protest, but Roger kept on talking. "Which is fine, because he has to know both sides – country and town, academical challenges and physical challenges, winning and losing – to be able to make his own decisions later in life, to become a responsible human being."

I opened my mouth to answer.

"Your family's waiting, mate." Roger interrupted me again. I looked at him sternly.

"Just, don't answer me now. Think about it. We can't tie our kids to what we want for them. We've got to teach them to fly."

Saying that, Roger opened my driver's door and nodded for me to get in.

I looked at his smiling face, then I got in and started the car. James kept chatting without interruption. He was bursting with news.

I was looking at the road, firmly gripping the steering wheel. I didn't like a lot of the things James was telling me, but thinking about Roger's advice, I had to acknowledge that James had liked the week on the farm. Whether I liked it or not.

We had driven for some time, when suddenly the road was blocked by masses of sheep, tumbling all over each other.

I slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt with a screeching sound.

"Really!" I shouted enervated, looking for any human being who might be responsible for this chaos. "Who the hell is responsible! This is a major disruption of road services! Shoo!" I blew the horn, with little effect. Just one of the woolly beasts turned its head with visible indifference. No shepherd and not even a dog in sight.

Louisa put her hand on my thigh. "Relax, we don't have to be anywhere. We've got time."

"How long do you want to wait? They'll probably be ages. What are they doing on the road anyway?"

"Maybe they're hungry." James commented innocently, causing Louisa to chuckle.

"You're right, James. Probably they are."

I groaned. It seemed I was the only one wanting to go home.

After a few moments, when even James was quiet, pressing his face to the window eager to watch the sheep which had by now surrounded us completely, Louisa turned to me.

"What was it you and Roger talked about for so long?"

I paused for a moment. "Nothing."

"You seemed to be quite upset during your chat, and now you're rather quiet."

"I'm monosyllabic." I quoted the view Louisa had expressed earlier in our relationship.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"Just another chapter of '_Roger and how he sees the world'_." I informed her sarcastically.

"I see. Colliding with the way you're seeing it. Shame I missed it."

I turned towards Louisa, who gave me a lopsided grin. Just then someone behind me blew his horn. While I started to rant at the illogical behaviour to try to hurry me up while being stuck in a flock of sheep, I suddenly noticed that those stupid beasts had disappeared as quickly as they had materialised.

_To be continued…_


	117. Chapter 117

Chapter 117

I was pottering around in the kitchen, preparing our dinner. Ruth had agreed without further ado to join us for dinner on Sunday evening.

While I was finishing the preparations for our dinner, our guest had already arrived and I could hear the chattering from the living room next door. That is, I could hear Louisa's and James' chatting. Ruth was an Ellingham.

We had agreed to tell Ruth the news only after dinner and after we'd put James to bed. You never know what children will pick up and even less what kind of distorted news they'll spread. As Ana wasn't informed yet, we didn't want the news of Louisa's pregnancy going public yet.

After a couple more minutes of preparations, dinner was ready. It was just before 6pm. Louisa always smirked about what she called my carbohydrate curfew, but Ruth was just the same as me. Even Louisa had come to appreciate our early eating time as it was quite handy for James. With a toddler in the house, midnight feasts were out of question anyway.

I set the table and summoned my whole family together. Louisa and James didn't stop talking while taking their seats around the table. When Ruth saw me bringing the food in, she raised an eyebrow and gave me a lopsided grin.

"What culinary treats are awaiting us tonight?" She asked me.

"Sea bass, baked with lemon and thyme, wild rice and beans."

"Yummy. If you ever grow tired of being a surgeon, you could become a celebrated chef." My aunt smiled while she unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap.

"Or a clock maker." Louisa chimed in. "He's brilliant at that, too."

I filled the plates. "I thought you'd be glad for me to practise _real medicine_ again, Ruth."

"True." My aunt nodded, licking her lips. "Still, whenever I eat here, it's delicious."

"Martin's simply good at many things." Louisa smiled up at me while I handed her the plate. I ducked my head.

When we were finally sitting around the table, James started babbling about the farm again. He was telling his great-aunt excitedly which sort of animals he had handled down there in Wales. I was sure my aunt wasn't too eager to know, but her opinion was of minor importance – just as mine.

"Auntie," James addressed Ruth, involuntarily sending a bit of fish into my aunt's direction.

"Careful!" I scolded him, taking a cloth to wipe away the lump of half-chewed fish from the table. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

James munched quickly, then swallowed the contents of his mouth down. "Sorry, Dad, but it wasn't really full."

"It was full enough for its content to be spread all over the place. Either you talk or you eat. And don't wolf it down. It'll cause indigestion." I scolded my son.

"And then you'll get those bad dreams again, and we don't want that, now do we?" Louisa told our son in a soft voice.

"No, Mum." James opened his mouth wide, directly in front of my face. "See, it's empty now." He informed me.

"Auntie," James continued then into the direction of Ruth, who was grinning at me. "Your place is so big. Why don't you have any animals? I'd have LOADS."

"I still keep the chickens – or they keep me. I never found out which way around it really is." Ruth answered, which was kind of her, because I knew she had absolutely no interest in children. However, she seemed to make an exception in James' case.

"Chickens." James repeated a bit disappointed, putting the fork into his mouth.

"What's wrong with chickens?" Louisa asked, and I wished she hadn't. It would only encourage James to keep on talking about the animals.

James chewed quickly and swallowed, before he answered. "They're not cuddly. You can't cuddle a chicken. A sheep, that's something different. A sheep feels real cool."

I gulped thinking about my son being in close contact with those flea-ridden beasts. Sheep were especially bad in my opinion. All sorts of parasites could get stuck in their dense wool.

Ruth obviously noticed my discomfort and smiled. "When I inherited the farm, there were some sheep on it."

"Really, cool!" James exclaimed, with his mouth full. I rolled my eyes.

"My sister had used it as a farm, you see."

"Really, a real farm?"

"A real farm – crops and chicken and flies and dirt and who-knows-what." Ruth added.

James' brow furrowed. "Why aren't they there anymore – the sheep?"

I waited for Ruth's answer, and hoped she wouldn't tell my son too graphically that they had ended as a Sunday roast.

"They died – eventually." Ruth told my son flatly.

"Why?" James asked.

"Because that's what animals do – eventually."

"All animals?"

"Yes, all animals." Ruth stayed astonishingly patient.

James was looking at me, and I knew I couldn't help him either. That was the way of life.

James got another bite to eat, before he declared. "I'd get new ones. Little ones. They last longer. When I have a farm, I'll have plenty of sheep."

"Maybe you'll have a farm one day." Ruth told my son, looking provocatively at me.

"Really?

"Very probably."

"Why?" James asked eagerly.

"I got the farm because my sister," Ruth looked up at me and I shook my head slightly, "well, Joan, my sister, she wasn't able to care for the farm anymore. So she gave the house and grounds to me to look after it. There'll be a day, when I won't be able to look after the place anymore either. Then it'll be your turn to look after the place – house and grounds and also the chickens. If you wanted to fill it with other animals, it'd be your choice."

James looked at my aunt with a doubtful expression, obviously mulling over the proposition. Finally his head fell. "I can't. I don't know how."

Aunt Ruth gave my son a lopsided grin. "Then I'll have to try to stay around a bit, until you're old enough to handle it."

James' head bobbed up. "You'd do that for me?"

"I can't promise, but I'll try. It would be what Joan wanted anyway."

I gulped and looked at my plate, but I wasn't hungry anymore. I felt like I had a knot in my stomach. Although Joan was dead for almost four years now, I still felt raw pain sometimes about her loss. Most of all about her never having seen her great-nephew, knowing how much she had been looking forward to seeing the baby. All this talk about Joan's inheritance and also the prospect of losing my only other blood relative of value eventually made me feel the loss with new vigour.

Suddenly I felt a slender hand on my thigh. Louisa's thumb was drawing slow circles on my leg.

I looked up alarmed. Louisa was participating in the conversation, which I had tuned out during the last minute or so. When I looked at her, she turned her head slightly and gave me an encouraging smile. The way she looked at me I knew that she knew what I was thinking about.

This realisation was strangely comforting. I also realised that Louisa's hand on my leg made my pain – bearable. The pain about Joan's passing didn't go away. I didn't forget the loss I had felt, but Louisa putting her hand on my thigh was enough to give me the strength to bear my pain.

I put my hand on top of hers and nodded, and Louisa smiled at me genuinely before continuing the conversation.

In moments like this I was always in wonder about the things Louisa had given me. I was so very grateful for having someone who sensed my discomfort and was able to relieve it.

I felt grateful – and guilty.

I was getting so much, and I was wondering for the umpteenth time what I could possibly give Louisa.

_To be continued…_


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